


Towards the Future

by ashion



Series: Odd Pairing [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Fingering, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Spark Merging, Sparklings, Sticky Interfacing, allusions to forced breeding, breeder, lotsa kissing, shameless smutt, touching and shmoopy stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3201845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashion/pseuds/ashion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and Rodimus Prime is slowly working to bring the Autobots and Decepticons back to one people. Optimus and Skyfire are making the most of their new free time together with a few surprises in store for all.</p><p>**See profile for hiatus updates**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on ff.net I'm now posting to here as well as I will be with all future stories. Sequel to New to Me (need to read that to get some context and full back story).  
> \--------------  
> “Talk”  
> :: Bond talk ::  
> 'Comm. link'

Walking the halls of the Ark Skyfire couldn’t help the light skip in his step as he guided his bondmate to their temporary quarters. The shuttle’s old quarters to be precise.

 

It was a little strange coming back to these particular quarters within the Ark. He hadn’t recharged there in a good 20 years. Not since shortly before they started the bond. A bond that was now wide open and filled with a mix of relief and joy at finally having had a solid future to look forward to together with almost nothing left to get in their way.

 

It had been just on 8 months since the horrific but ultimately decisive battle that finally saw the end of the millions of years old war. Everyone had been working non stop to help those injured in the fighting, collect and honor the dead and rebuild Autobot City and Cybertron itself. No easy task with so few Cybertronians now remaining and the humans pushing harder and less fair terms on them for help and supplies.

 

A small number of Decepticons had already come to the new Prime, Rodimus, with requests for amnesty for varying reasons ranging from simply being tired of everything and wanting to be free of their old lives to those who badly needed medical help or were simply starving. Several in need of vital repairs were brought by those who wanted escape the egotistical ravings and failing rule of Starscream who was determined to keep the Decepticons together as an army no matter the cost. All were accepted under sworn oath that they would not cause deliberate harm to any other mecha and would make reasonable efforts to learn and integrate themselves to the new Cybertronian society gradually evolving out of the war time mess and learned history of the past. There were no longer Autobots or Decepticons, just Cybertronians.

 

The self proclaimed new Lord of the Decepticons heavy handed attempts to keep the remaining Decepticons at his side and under his rule were already failing. He couldn’t keep his soldiers properly fueled let alone get them the repairs many still needed with so many of the higher ranked officers and general medically knowledged mecha dead or already defected. More than a few had already died from untreated internal damage or shut down into near irreversible stasis lock from a combination of damage and starvation. Rodimus Prime had already sent word that he would be willing to send help and any supplies they could spare if Starscream agreed to the simple terms of a complete and permanent cease fire, but the seekers ego wouldn’t let him back down, not now. He'd won his 'rightful' place as ruler and wasn't about to bow to the new sniveling upstart of a Prime.

 

Glancing down at his bondmate, arms wound securely around each others waists, Skyfire couldn’t help the proud grin plastered across his face plates. Optimus had been in stasis lock for nearly 6 months. His internal injuries had been extensive including scorching and cracks deep within his laser core and some worrying processor damage from severe overheating.

 

Things had been touch and go for longer than the shuttle liked to remember. Between new vital parts being rejected, some existing parts failing under the strain and frequent bouts of chronic spark arrhythmia many began to simply give up hope that the former Prime would ever awaken from stasis. Skyfire had been told several times to prepare for the worst and put together an entombment plan for himself and his mate, but he had never given up. Everyday he could feel his mate's spark steadily growing stronger, the wispy sensations across the bond slowly developing clarity and he knew one way or another his stubborn mate would come back to him.

 

In the end Skyfire’s determination and Optimus’ own tenacious will saw him finally awaken after 6 months in stasis lock. The only sign of some lingering processor issues was his sketchy memory concerning the final battle and some months before it.

 

Finally after an extended 2 month stint in the med bay Optimus had been formally discharged. The added time included his recovery from having his reproductive systems restored and reconnected, much to the shuttle's joy. What was meant to be one long but fairly straight forward procedure had turned out to be much more intensive than originally expected requiring one major and 3 minor surgeries to complete. In the end it had thankfully all gone well and now Optimus was free to live with his mate, which was why Skyfire was so gleefully happy right then.

 

Since the war was all but over and Optimus was no longer the Autobots leader - having passed the matrix on to Hot Rod, now Rodimus Prime - and had been all but told by Ratchet he was no longer to be involved in any further skirmishes that may crop up 'or he would have all his primary motor function relays shut off and confined to the med bay _again_ ', so he had finally stopped wearing his protective mask all together. This both pleased Skyfire seeing his mate so happy and relaxed, but it also left the shuttle a little jealous.

 

Those beautifully crafted, though damaged, face plates once reserved just for his optics, were now on display for any mech to see. The few times Optimus had been allowed out of the med bay for an hour or so many a mech and femme had stared, and not always favorably. Just in the short walk to their quarters the shuttle had sent a few mechs and the occasionally femme running when their stares, some appraising others shocked, lingered far too long for his liking.

 

Sending a death glare at yet another mech who’d stopped and was openly gawking slack jawed at his mate, Skyfire was about to snap at them to keep their optics to themselves when long fingers dug into his side. “Cut that out. They are just surprised to see me without my mask, Sky.” Optimus chided his bondmate, giving their waist and affectionate squeeze. “Yeah, I know, but do they have to gawk and drool over you like they’ve just noticed you’re a hot piece of aft?” Skyfire jokingly groused, pulling his mate tight to his side.

 

Laughing Optimus gave the shuttle a lopsided, sultry grin, voice turning to a low purr. “Maybe that’s because I am.” He teased running a finger down the shuttle’s cockpit, spark pulsing out strong waves of affection through the bond. “Yeah, but you’re _my_ hot piece of aft.” The shuttle growled possessively, leaning down to steal a chassed kiss from his mate.

 

“It’s cute an’ all, but would ya'll mind gettin’ a room already!” A gruff, thickly accented voice barked behind them. Turning the pair found Ironhide standing behind them optics narrowed, stout arms crossed over his wide red chest, but a smile twitching at the corners of his thin derma.

 

The two glared back, but there was no real heat in their stares. Barking a laugh the bulky red mech gave them both strong pats on the arms. “Just good ta see ya up an about Pri- ah mean Optimus. Good ta see ya happy too Skyfire. No offence but ya'll been radiatin’ black depression an’ glarin’ death at any mech who so much as looked at ya sideways fer months.”

 

Smiling warmly, something which Ironhide was still getting used to actually _seeing_ , Optimus returned the hearty pat on the shorter mech’s shoulder. “Thank you, old friend. It is good to finally be out of the med bay and out from under Ratchet’s watchful optics.”

 

“Yep, that wouldn’t surprise me. Had Hatchet harpin’ an’ snappin’ at me for weeks fer getting' shot ta pieces in that fight. He’s still pissed at me even now fer nearly gettin’ mah self slagged… Uh…” Optimus didn’t need to look at his mate to know they were glaring at the old warrior, normally boundless patience worn thin. He could feel the sharp prickles of his growing irritation seeping through the bond. “I’ll let ya two go. Ya got’s ‘private’ catchin’ up ta do. Seeya round Optimus, Skyfire.” With that the elder mech beat a hasty retreat.

 

:: You need to learn some manners and patients love. :: Optimus chastised his mate again as they resumed their walk to their new shared quarters.

 

:: I’m tired of being patient and ridiculously nice to everyone so they would leave me be and so Ratchet wouldn’t kick me out of the med bay for 8 pit damned months! And I'm tired of having to share you with everyone else all that time. I want you all to myself… I need you so much right now it hurts. :: Pulsing his love and burning need through the bond, Optimus reciprocated feeling the same deep longing and the almost painful, desperate pull of his spark towards theirs. :: I know, I feel it too. ::

 

Ignoring all other distractions and quickening the pace it was only a matter of minutes before they reached Skyfire’s old quarters. As soon as the door were closed and locked they turned to one other, arms looping around each other and derma meeting in a passionate kiss, sparks literally flying where derma and plating touched. Despite the long painful separation - even though they had only ever been a matter of meters a lot of the time - they took their time with one another. Hands slowly remapping out sensitive hot spots while their mouths and glossa worked together in a long synchronized dance.

 

Moving to the berth, they silently agreed that they wanted to be on equal grounds with their first merge in months. Neither would be in the dominant position, but both would be equally sharing control and putting their chests at the near perfect level to merge. Sitting on the berth, long legs folded under him Skyfire watched as his mate fluidly moved to straddle over his lap. Large white hands guided his mate’s hips as they maneuvered to physically join their bodies.

 

Optimus moaned softly as he finally got at least part of what he wanted of his mate, his large spike sliding home with some resistance. As soon as the spike was fully hilted, tip easily pushing past the end of his valve, a burning hot charge ran through his systems along with the now familiar sensation of his spark being constricted in its casing and his internals pulling tight. He didn’t wait for his body to adjust, the all encompassing need to move drove him to push against his mate’s steadying hold.

 

Groaning at the familiar tight, gripping heat surrounding and squeezing his spike, Skyfire supported his mate’s lower back as they began a steady rolling rhythm of slow rise and fall. Internal walls rippling and clutching around him, creating delicious friction and charge as his own hips shallowly rolled to meet each of his mate's movements. Wanting to savor every second after too long apart and how close they came to loosing one another, they moved together at a much slower pace than their usual interfacing practices.

 

Skyfire panted and moaned along with his mate, finally getting the kind of physical contact he had had been sorely craving - petting barely warm plating and holding their hand didn't count in his book- but it wasn’t enough. “I need you…mm… all of you.” Skyfire whined into his mate’s audial, crushing their lips together in a feverish kiss as Optimus pressed and ground their chests together creating small sparks.

 

:: Then what are you waiting for? :: Skyfire shuddered at the desire laden pulse he received. Pulling his mate back just enough to allow their chest plates to part, their movements slowed as Optimus first helped pull his mate's then his own chest plates open.

 

Skyfire stared at his lover’s strongly pulsing, larger than normal, spark. Small wisps of blue mingled in with the white gold marking Optimus as his as much as the wisps of gold within his own white blue spark mark him as theirs. Unable to wait any longer Optimus hugged his mate tightly to him, their sparks gleefully reaching out and instantly twinning together.

 

The shuttle shared everything his mate had missed in his time offline and before the major defining battle, not sparing one single sight, sound or emotion. He showed him the good and the bad. The moments of happiness when those missing were found alive along with the wrenching pain of ferrying home those lost, both human and Cybertronian. Despite his want to be constantly at his bondmate’s side, the shuttle had set aside his selfish needs many times early on, putting himself to use after his repairs to try and help others where he could to regain some sense of order amongst the chaos.

 

Optimus silently absorbed it all, taking in the shuttle’s emotional pain and returning great flows of love, appreciation and reassurance, soothing his mate’s rattled processor and sensitive spark. The shuttle was truly a pacifist to the spark and the sights he had witnessed in the days after the final battle had shaken him badly. No amount of general bond sharing could quite smooth the edges or deliver the unimaginably deep level of cathartic release like a full merge.

 

So caught up in one another and the reaffirmation of their bond, neither noticed the increased heat in Optimus chest flowing down into his abdomen, how Skyfire’s spark energies were being drawn into the very center of Optimus' core or the increasingly dense loops of plasma-like energy flowing around and through their merged sparks. Crying out one another’s names, they reached their peak with an explosive whip-crack of released energy.

 

Skyfire’s crushing hug around his mate, held him firmly in place as he released his code baring transfluid deep into his lover’s willing body and the discharge from their sparks rebounded over and over between them. Fingers digging in at the base of white wings, Optimus shook hard with the intensity of their mutual overload, armor plates rattling as the burning heat and sharp charge tearing through every line in his frame. The energy flow between them seemed to carry on for an eternity before it eventually abated and they ever so slowly they came down from their shared overload, foreheads pressed together as their sparks reluctantly unwound and returned to the confines of their own chambers.

 

Neither noticed the excess energy still curling around Optimus spark as they slowly released their near crushing grips on one another. Bodies trembling from the massive energy release, they barely managed to lie down properly on the berth before recharge claimed them.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

For 5 days hardly anyone saw the rather well known pair as they continued to affirm their bond and Skyfire attended to his mate’s suddenly almost insatiable interface drive. He suspected the long separation may have brought it on feeling the desire and desperate need to mate and spark merge bleeding through the bond, but was enjoying himself far too much to care. This wasn’t the first time his mate had been like this. His interface drives seemed to hit a sharp peak lasting between 2 to 8 days roughly once a year during their relationship, so he was well prepared for it.

 

And saying 'no' to a mech like Optimus was generally a little hard at the best of times, but when he was so wound like this - and mercilessly exploiting every hot spot and move that drove the shuttle crazy - the remotest thought ever denying him never crossed the shuttle's processor. He, in fact, thrived on the additional, almost insatiable, attentions from his mate at those times considering how little time and energy they had to spare for one another during the war.

* * *

 

It had now been just over 3 1/2 weeks since Optimus had been released from the med bay and both he and Skyfire had settled into something of a new routine; Optimus helping Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus deal with the human governments and associated agents along side coordinating the rebuilding efforts on Earth and Cybertron with Skyfire assisting the architecture and scientific departments with various issues. They finally had some semblance of a ‘normal’ life going where they now always had time for each other and had schedules that didn’t frequently conflict. After the first 5 days of hardly being able to bare being apart their mutual interface drives and need to reaffirm their bond had settled back to their normal levels, which only meant they were a little more active than any regular bonded pair.

 

Lying spooned around his mate, thick white fingers brushing up and down along his mate’s abdomen and chest plates Skyfire couldn’t help worry a little. It had been 6 hours since they last fully merged, their last round kept to just interfacing with recharge in the interim, but Optimus chest plates felt abnormally hot.

 

“Op? Optimus?” Skyfire rested his chin on his mates raised shoulder, mindful of the smoke stack sticking out, watching as half lit optics brightened. “Mm?” Optimus murmured. “Are you feeling alright? You’re chest feels awfully hot.”

 

Optimus couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the observation. “I’m fine Sky, still just a little tired form our activities. We merged twice so of course my chest plates will be overheated for a while. I can still feel the heat from yours.” Grumbling Skyfire hugged his mate tighter to him, fingers prodding and inspecting the 'offending' area. “I know, but it bothers me. It’s been hours since our last merge, you should have cooled down much more by now, I have. I’ve noticed you’ve been recharging a little more lately as well.”

 

Stroking his mate’s arm in reassurance Optimus sighed. Skyfire could be somewhat over protective at times, but he knew the best way to placate his mate - within reason - was to get things checked to put him at ease. “I’ll see Ratchet in the morning if I haven’t cooled down by then, alright?” Humming in agreement, the large white mech shifted so his mate’s helm was resting under his chin, slipped a leg between silvery white thighs and looped his arm around Optimus pulling him in tight in an almost possessive manner.

 

Skyfire was first to cycle back down into recharge leaving his mate wide awake. When Optimus thought about it he had been feeling a little off and his systems running slightly above his normal rest and active ranges for well over a week or more, but he had put it down to getting used to having _all_ his systems and internals functioning again. Running a full system diagnostic and comparing it to the oldest run time diagnostics he had in his processor banks from before he had his reproductive systems disconnected he began to develop strong suspicions on what may be going on. This left him both elated and more anxious and nerve wracked than he had been in many vorns.

* * *

The following day the heat in Optimus chest plates had gone down a little, but was still abnormally high and had spread through his abdomen. Following his mate to Ratchet’s med bay Skyfire couldn’t shake the feeling his lover was hiding something from him. In their over 20 years together - 13 as bondmates - neither had ever all but shut off their end of the bond over anything, even during some of the most violent battles with the Decepticons. Right now the shuttle kept hitting a metaphysical wall when he tried to press into his mate's side of the bond, only the barest hints of apprehension and anticipation eking through. _'Op why are you blocking me?_ ' Skyfire loudly broadcast over private comm. Line hoping to jar his worryingly quite mate into a response.

 

Optimus briefly glanced up at his mate, the block unfurling just enough to allow basic communication. :: Sorry love, I suspect what may be happening… I just… I don’t want to get either of our hopes up just incase I'm wrong. ::

 

Gaping at his mate Skyfire stopped and grabbed Optimus, spinning him around to face him optics flicking from his stoic face to his chest and back again. :: You… you mean… :: Running a hand down the shuttle’s face Optimus smiled sadly. :: I’m not sure yet Sky. Please don’t get too excited. Ratchet said I may have a few, as he put it, false alarms. Since my systems have been on redundant so long and I’ve never sparked before he warned me the first one or two may not take properly. ::

 

Nodding his understanding and feeling some of the griping fear and worry his mate was trying to hide, Skyfire slung his arm around the narrow red waist and held him close, flooding the still narrowed bond with all his love and affection he could muster for the remainder of the short walk to the med bay.

 

Ratchet was both pleased and annoyed to see the bonded pair back again so soon after Optimus’ release. “Alright, what did you two do?” Ratchet grumbled, a touch of exasperated humor softening his tone. Sliding out of his mate’s tight hold Optimus stepped forward. “Could you check my spark please Ratchet?”

 

That request caught the medic off guard, but he quickly set his light shock aside and ushering the former Prime to the nearest berth. “Alright Optimus open up and we'll see what's going on.” He said, picking up a portable scanner. "Have you experienced any pain, discomfort or pulse fluctuations?"

 

"No, though I have been feeling a little, I can only describe it as strange, for a few days now and my systems diagnostic show the run times for all systems are a little elevated. We have noticed that my chest remains quite heated even several hours after a merge." Optimus replied as he complied with the medic's request and pulled his chest plates open, while Skyfire hovered beside the berth. Both waited in anticipation as Ratchet did various scans and manual checks around Optimus spark, laser core and surrounding systems, finally ending with the hard to spot gestation chamber.

 

If the medic wasn't so familiar with this particular mechs frame he was sure he would easily have missed that unique piece of anatomy in its current state. The oval shaped mass of connected tubes and multi-layered soft metal was heavily contracted to the size of the medics palm and so deep entrenched within the centre of the mech's frame, under his laser core, one would have difficulty seeing it, let alone knowing what they were looking at.

 

The scans and inspection seemed to go on forever before the medic paused, optics subtly widening as he read and re-read the final results. Leaning back Ratchet looked from Optimus to Skyfire, optics narrowing on the white shuttle. “He ain’t been outta here for more than 3 weeks and you’ve already gone and done it.”

 

The poor flyer twitched under the medics glare, looking with growing panic from his mate to the medic. The sudden through that the heat and slight drowsiness were because he'd somehow been too rough during a mating session and damaged something within his mate sent a brief lick of panic through his spark.

 

“Ratchet?” The slightly worried prompt from Optimus finally broke the little bit of control the CMO had over himself. Cracking up with a loud laugh, broad smile near splitting his face plates Ratchet beamed at the bondmates. “I guess its congratulations. You have two strong, healthy newsparks.”

 

“Newsparks? T-two?” Skyfire squawked loudly, nearly collapsing with the jarring combination of relief, joy and shock. Clapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment at his outburst the shuttle stuttered quietly in awed excitement. “S-sorry, but two newsparks? You-you mean twins?”

 

“Not twins, no." The medic tapped at a few points on the scanner. "From what I can tell from these readings they were sparked within two or three days of each other.” Turning to Optimus who was silently staring down at what he could see of his own exposed internals Ratchet gave the truck-former a heavy pat on the shoulder. “Never do things by halves do you Optimus?” The medic joked. “Of course it would be you who’d be making the first sparklings after the war.”

 

Plugging the scanner into a display the medic brought up a slightly pixilated scan image of Optimus bright spark and the two tiny incredibly dense balls of energy attached to it, newsparks. Each rested on opposite sides of the large parent spark just within the swirling semi-transparent corona, a thin cluster of glowing umbilicus lines anchoring them in place.

 

“They both look strong and are giving off good individual signals so I don’t see any real danger of them destabilizing." Reading further into his findings the CMO adds, "and looks like your gestation chamber is about ready to start preparing for forging the protoforms, but until they are at least 6 weeks old I want you in here every second day for check ups. No excuses."

 

"I honestly haven’t dealt with a carrying breeder before Optimus. You're the first and only one I've ever met or worked on so I’m not sure what issues, if any, might come up given your medical history. And I don't know what to expect with the carrier a warrior class ground mech and the sire a shuttle class flyer.” Ratchet gestures to Skyfire who was too engrossed in staring at the display to care. Prodding them both to gain their attention, signaling for Optimus to close up, the medic continued on.

 

“Now, I've been reading up on what I could get on carrying breeders after I put things back together for you and knowing what you two are like you can still interface, but no more merges until the newsparks are at least 8 weeks old. According to the data statistics there’s a chance any extra charge now may cause a split in an existing newspark or induce another sparking. Two are more than enough for your first carrying Optimus so I think it will be better to play it safe and see how things go."

 

Flicking through some notes the medic states, "After 8 weeks they should be well established with solid umbilicus lines fully anchoring them to Optimus’ spark so that any extra charge will actually be beneficial and your systems should be 100% dedicated to supporting those two preventing any further sparkings. You think you two can keep yourself to just that?” Optimus simply smiled while Skyfire nodded vigorously one large arm sliding around his mate's shoulders and pulling him close as he stared at the screen again committing every pixel to long term memory.

 

Optimus had said early on in their relationship he wanted sparklings once the war was over, but the white mech just couldn’t believe it had already happened. He’d honestly expected to have to wait a decade or two before things were settled enough to even consider trying, but there displayed in full colour, if a bit fuzzy, were two perfect little newsparks. His sparklings… their sparklings. He was torn between grabbing his mate in a crushing hug of pure joy and going crazy with paranoia over his health and protection.

 

He knew that last part would potentially score him a hit across the back of the head at best, banishment to the opposite side of the berth for a night or two at worst. If there was one thing he’d learned about his mate early on it was that Optimus hated being coddled or fussed over. He had an independent streak a mile wide much like Skyfire himself and didn’t take well to being treated like he was less than capable of taking care of himself.

 

“Sparklings… we’re having sparklings… We’re really having sparklings… Two sparklings… And they’re ours…” Skyfire couldn’t stop babbling, hugging his mate tightly as he stared at the still image on the screen. Optimus chuckled lightly, only half noticing Ratchet discreetly slipping from the main med bay into his office. “Yes, Skyfire... Now there’s one thing left we promised to each other, or more specifically you have been promising me for a time now.”

 

Snapping out of his shock and awe induced loop Skyfire looked down at his mate who was giving him a rather smug half grin. “And that is?” He hedged prodding their bond to try and wheedle out the answer, only received an amused push back. “We’ve been fully bonded for over 13 Earth years now, not long by our kind’s standards, but with our first sparklings on the way and the war all but done it’s about there are no excuses left to put it off any longer. So its about time we made it official, don’t you think?”

 

If Skyfire had been human he would have first blanched as white as his nanite skin, then turned as red as his mate's plating. As it was, his wings hitched to a painfully high angle as he stared at his mate now feeling rather foolish. Most knew the pair we’re exclusively mated, but only members of the original Ark crew knew they had gone all the way and were bonded. Gossip tended to travel fast back then in that little group.

 

Optimus had always been a traditionalist and it was clear he wasn't going to let the shuttle talk him out of it yet again. Planting a soft kiss against his mate's helm crest he chuckled a little embarrassed. “Ah, yes, well we’ll have to remedy that won’t we love? Do you think Rodimus would oversee the ceremony for us?” Nodding Optimus returned his attention to the screen. “Yes, but I’ll need to have a little talk with him first.”

 

TBC

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	3. Chapter 3

Rodimus Prime sat at his desk trying and failing to maintain interest in the stacks of data pads full of supply requisition orders, various human government requests, notices and general reports all requiring his attention. Throwing another half read data pad onto the growing stack the young Prime barely resisted the urge to slam his helm into the desk in pure, monotony induced, frustration. He honestly wondered how his predecessor dealt with this on a daily basis for so many millennia while also commanding an entire army _and_ dealing with living on an alien planet without loosing his sanity.  
  
Jumping at the chime for the main door to his office, Rodimus quickly snatched up a random data pad from the pile. “Enter.” He called, pretending to be avidly reading the data pad.

“It works better when it is the right way up, Roddi.”  
  
Looking up at the familiar low baritone Rodimus’ couldn’t help the smile that crept across his features. Tossing aside the data pad, and all pretense of working, the young Prime barely reined in his ingrained response to stand to attention. They may have ‘retired’ from their position and title, but the young mech still found Optimus quietly exuded an air of authority and respect even when it was obvious his intentions were purely on a friendly basis.  
  
“Optimus, what can I do for you?” Rodimus asked, more than happy for the distraction. Gesturing for his guest to sit, the young Prime flopped gracelessly down into his own seat feeling completely at ease in the presence of his predecessor, mentor and unofficial adoptive creator. There was no need to keep up the annoying ‘leader’ image.  
  
Optimus was silent a moment, optics going distant before coming into sharp focus on the young Prime. “I would have preferred Skyfire to be here for this, but at the moment he is a little… overexcited. I had to leave him in the capable hands of Wheeljack and Perceptor to come see you.” Rodimus quirked an optic ridge at that.   
  
Skyfire? Overexcited? The only thing that got that mech going was breaking a new algorithm or discovering a new species. With the impression he was getting from the way Optimus spoke it didn't sound like anything to do with science. This all seemed incredibly odd and suspicious to the Prime, to say the least.  
  
“I will get to the point.” Moving his hand to rest at the juncture of his lower chest plates and the beginning of the abdominal grill plating Optimus softly stated. “Skyfire and I are expecting our first sparklings.”  
  
The flame decorated mech stared dumbly a moment before his processor decided to kick into gear and properly comprehend the words. “Oh, wow. Congratulations! Wow… you’re…. that wasn’t the least of what I was expected but I’m happy for you! This is great! I’m gonna be a big brother!” Rodimus crowed nearly scrambling from his seat quickly coming around to engulf the equally large red and blue mech in a strong hug. The prospect of their little 'family' growing so soon thrilled his work weary spark.  
  
Optimus was like one of the creators he didn’t have growing up thanks to the war. Kup had raised him and several other bots but due to their numbers and the war he was more a drill sergeant and hard edged guardian than a real substitute creator. This drove some to work hard to gain his limited affections and others, like Hot Rod himself, to rebel and act out to garner any form of individual attention. He still loved the elderly mech like all of them and knew he was doing his best, but his young spark instinctively craved more than he gave.

When he came to earth and Kup had even less time or patience for him, especially now he was well into his majority and a young adult, he soon found himself under the watchful optics of Optimus Prime.

Kup had been on his back at every chance he got to remind him the Prime was watching and to pull his head in and start flying straight for once and prove he was worthy of his place in the Autobot army. For a time he did try to do better, to make his Prime proud and show he was worth his metal, but between his oldest friends deciding they wanted to become 'exclusive' mates and pushed him to the edge of their little circle and his efforts frequently falling short of what he wanted he quickly became incredibly frustrated with everything and turned back to his old ways, acting out to get the attention his young spark still craved.

It all finally came to a head one day when he'd gotten way in over his head to the point half his squad ended up in the med bay. He was called into the Prime's office and had steeled himself for the reaming of his life, fully expecting to be demoted to the lowest of the low or even removed from duty. What followed left him off-kilter for several hours afterwards.

The large, imposing mech had stood before him for several agonizing seconds in complete silence, blue optics looking him up and down with sharp scrutiny, before stepping forward, grabbing his shoulders and yanking the young mech into a tight hug. He remembered distinctly standing frozen for what seemed like an eternity before he found himself grasping at the Prime's back, clinging to him for all he was worth as he soaked in all the comfort and warmth the mech was throwing at him as a few thousand vorns worth of pent up rage, frustration and spark deep pain of never having a proper youngling-hood flooding out.

Once he'd managed to regain some composure - over an hour later - he felt more relaxed than he had most of his life and Optimus Prime had simply given him a brief, yet harsh lecture on properly thinking before acting, being aware his actions because they will have long lasting consequences for himself and others both good and bad, that he wasn't the only one fighting this war, that his life like all others was worth something. It ended with the Prime adding that if he ever had a need to just sit and talk his door was always open to him just like everyone else. With that he was sent on his way.

From then on he took up the Prime quite frequently on his open door offer and found not only Optimus, but Skyfire as well were always there for him. Optimus was the kind and understanding authority figure who didn't speak down to him or treat him like a youngling but an actual young adult and taught him the virtues he needed to be a good leader, while Skyfire was the quiet listener and moral booster, happy to sit and let the young mech vent his frustrations while giving him added direction like Optimus. Both mechs always had open arms for him to run into when things between himself and friends and other Autobots simply got too much to deal with or he just guiltily wanted to be held and coddled in ways he never got growing up orphaned. Far as he was concerned they were his creators.  
  
Pulling back, huge grin plastered across his facial plates Rodimus glanced from the former Prime’s soft, lopsided smile to where his hand still rested on his chest. “Heh, now I understand why Skyfire would be a little ‘overexcited’ as you put it. A bit of an understatement there I think Op. When did this happen?” He asked slipping back to sit behind his desk, grin firmly fixed on his derma plating as he kept stealing glances at the broad red chest. “You’ve only been out of the med bay for just over 3 weeks and you’ve spent most of that time helping me and Magnus. Which I gotta say, I’ve appreciated more than I’ve managed to actually tell you.”  
  
“By Ratchet’s estimates approximately 16 days for one and 14 days for the other.” Optimus said off handedly watching as the young Prime nods before freezing. Wide optics locked on the former Prime in disbelief. “Wait what? You’re having two?”  
  
Discreetly covering his mouth trying and failing to stifle his laugh at the comically slack-jawed look on the young Prime's face, Optimus nodded. Rodimus' astonishment quickly turns to panic.

“Wait, wait that means you’ve been carrying the whole time you’ve been helping Magnus and I in the clean up! We've traveled over 300 miles around to the human cities just this week! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have taken you off the duty schedule. I'm sure last thing you need now is undue stress, right? I mean we can do this without you on site and…”  
  
Standing from his seat the former Prime’s features went from jovial to coldly neutral in a split second. Planting his hands firmly on the edge of the new Prime’s desk Optimus loomed over the seated flame decorated mech, sharp blue optics boring into his. “We only found out not an hour ago and I will make this very clear right now. Yes I am carrying, but that changes nothing. I am still fully capable to pull my weight in the restoration efforts. I do not want to be treated any different or given any special consideration while we rebuild. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
Unconsciously shrinking back from the sharp glare Rodimus quickly nodded, ready to do anything to placate the clearly irate mech. “Sure, of course, sorry!” Rodimus squeaked watching as his mentor relaxed, helm dropping with a heavy sigh through his vents.  
  
“No, I’m sorry Roddi. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” Optimus murmured, moving back to his seat and regarding the younger with apologetic optics. Waving the whole thing off Rodimus watched his mentors posture carefully and easily picked out where that little outburst came from. “Lemme guess… you sent Skyfire off to work out his 'overexcitement' because he went a bit overboard again?”  
  
Sighing again, Optimus nodded. “I do love him but sometimes he takes his need to be protective a little too far. I understand his worry and reasoning, but wanting to confine me to the Ark for the next 18 months and asking me to reduce my involvement with the rebuilding effort and human governments to all but nothing is asking too much.” Rodimus hummed in agreement.  
  
He didn’t know Optimus as intimately as Skyfire, but everyone knew that treating him like he was fragile and trying to restrict him in such hard times, when all able hands were needed, was a bad move. Optimus was the type who needed to have something to do all the time, even if it was processor numbing menial labor, and didn’t take well to being told he couldn’t help the people he spent nearly all his entire life-cycle fighting for.  
  
“We had a small disagreement shortly before I came to see you. He’s cooling off a bit and getting out his need to tell someone about our sparklings speaking with Wheeljack and Perceptor.” Optimus added, optics flicking off to the side a moment as they dimmed again as he accessed the bond. The response from his mate was instant, layered with sincere apologies and projections of his buzzing exhilaration and love. Pushing back with his own apology and sending his reassurance he was as always perfectly fine, the former Prime focused back to his successor.  
  
“But enough of that. This little surprise of ours has also brought up something we have been putting off for some years. Rodimus Prime, it would be a great honor to us if you would be acting minister in our bonding ceremony.” For the second time that day Rodimus Prime found himself openly gaping at his mentor in surprise.   
  
“You want ME to oversee your bonding ceremony? Seriously, me? Is that because I’m the Prime now?” Rodimus hedged, both excited about the fact he was being asked to oversee the first bonding ceremony in millennia and nervous as all pit because of the mechs he would be performing the ceremony for.  
  
Shaking his head the former Prime smiled softly. “Yes and no. You have the authority - as Prime - to make our bonding official in the traditions of Cybertronian society and as you know we consider you part of our soon to grow family. Having you acting as minister would be a great honor to us... if you wish to accept.”  
  
“Of course! Of course I will! Do you have any date for it or anything?” Rodimus asked excitement growing as the idea settled in his mind of finally seeing his adoptive creators and mentors bond properly recognized and becoming a ‘big brother’ to their sparklings. He could also see this as a great moral boost for their people after so much hardship trying to rebuild after the war. Plus the recognition of bonding of the former Prime and his mate, belated as it would be, was a good excuse as any to throw a party.  
  
“We would like to wait at least 2 months. That will give us time to begin making the necessary arrangements, make the announcement of our bonding ceremony and the creation of our sparklings.” Optimus added, hand going back to resting at his lower chest. “By then any chances of a miscarriage will have passed and it will give us plenty of time to prepare without impeding important work. We don’t want anything special, just enough to make out bond official. Anyone who should want to attend would be more than welcome.”  
  
Rodimus nodded in agreement, though his wide grin faltered as a thought dawned on him. “If you announce that you’re carrying, others will start putting two and two together you know. There’s only one way a warrior type grounder like you could spark with and carry a shuttle class flyers sparklings. The fact you’re a breeder becoming common knowledge doesn’t bother you?”  
  
“No, no it doesn’t. Not now at least. There is no longer any danger of that information getting into the wrong hands and-” Optimus trailed off as his expressive optics went distant in the familiar tell tale sign of most of his focus shifting to the bond. Abruptly standing the red and blue truck-former rattled out a barely understandable apology before bolting out the door.  
  
Sitting confused for a moment Rodimus quickly gathered his wits and jumped up to follow them, running full tilt down the hall to try and catch up. His first thought was something must have been wrong with Optimus and he was heading for the med bay, but he quickly realized he wasn't when the red and blue mech rounded a corner in the hall heading towards the science wing.  
  
Following after them he arrived just in time to see Optimus dragging his infuriated mate out of the main science labs. “How dare you even suggest such a thing!” Skyfire bellowed, struggling against his mate’s firm grip.  
  
Wheeljack soon stuck his head out hands held up in a defensive pose, helm fins glowing softly as he tried to calm the enraged shuttle. “Please, Skyfire he didn’t mean it like that. You know how Perceptor sometimes rambles on, doesn’t shut off the connection between his process and vocal-”

The shuttle snarled lurching forward, barely held in check by his mate. “I don’t care! I will not tolerate such a heinous and utterly deplorable idea. He is _-_ they- are _not_ scientific specimens! You lay one servo on my mate and I will tear your arm out of its socket!”  
  
Finally getting his mate under control, one arm wrapped firmly around his waist and holding their helm to keeping them facing away from a very nervous Wheeljack, Optimus pinged Rodimus’ comm. line. ‘ _I’m sorry about this. It may be best if you speak to Wheeljack and Perceptor without us present. Skyfire is highly agitated I will need time to calm him so we will retire to our quarters for the day. Please let me know if you need anything._ ’  
  
Nodding his understanding, Rodimus Prime watched closely as his mentor lead his irate mate away before turning to Wheeljack nervously waiting in the doorway. Sucking in a calming vent of air he settled into his learned ‘leader mode’ in preparation for sorting out whatever it was that set off the large, normally meek and hard to anger shuttle.  
  
Ushering the engineer back into the science lab, away from the growing number of nosey mechs gathering down the hall drawn by the commotion, Rodimus found a rather shaken Perceptor sitting on a stool in the far back of the lab.

“Mind explaining to me what’s going on here?” Rodimus asked as calmly as he could. Last thing he wanted was to spook the engineer and scientist or sound like he was out to get them.   
  
“Ah, yes well… Skyfire came to see us to tell us the good news… I’m presuming you already know and their, uh, unique circumstances?” The engineer asked, helm fins flickering in a clear display of how incredibly nervous he was. “Yes, Optimus informed me himself and I already know all about them. What’s that got to do with Skyfire going ballistic?”   
  
Helm hanging low, Perceptor raised his hand. “That would be entirely my fault, sir.” Slowly lifting his helm, Rodimus found himself looking into pained optics. “I… I said something very inappropriate… it was a heat of the moment thought. A misstep in my speech patterns which lead to my inadvertently offending our friend Skyfire causing him undue distress.”  
  
Flicking his optics, CPU struggling to turn all that into plain speech the young Prime stated. “So you said something that upset him by not thinking before speaking. Ok. What might that have been exactly?”  
  
Hanging his helm again, delicate fingers twisting around each other so hard metal plates loudly rasped together the scientist mumbled. “I… inadvertently proclaimed aloud… what fascinating study subjects Optimus and the sparklings would make being a breeder and ground mech gestating the offspring of a shuttle class mech… Optimus has only allowed me menial, base level examinations in the past, but I've never had the opportunity to study a breeder in the process of gestation of young. His gender is quite a fascinating and statistically rare anomaly...”  
  
Sighing heavily, grey hand scrubbed over his face plates, trying desperately not to snap at the sweet, but awfully absent minded microscope Rodimus tried to think of the best way to settle things and keep all parties happy. Last thing he needed was the few mechs of his science and development team at odds in the middle of rebuilding Autobot City and trying to get more than 15% of Cybertron suitably habitable.   
  
“Alright, I’ll admit that was pretty cold Perceptor, talking about a bonded mech's mate like that especially when he's just found out his mate is expecting their first sparklings was highly uncalled for and unprofessional.” The small pale cobalt and red mech cringed at that, curling in on himself as he radiated shame and humility. Wheeljack silently slid over, rubbing a comforting hand across his long time friends back.  
  
Ok, maybe that was a little cold himself there, but the Prime decided it had to be said. Perceptor really needed to learn to control his impulses and keep potentially offensive ideas like that to himself.

“Look, I’m not mad at you or anything and you’ve admitted the mistake, that it wasn’t intentional. I think you’re doing a good enough job of self punishment for that slip as it is so I'm not going to do anything more. Skyfire doesn't hold grudges, but I think it will be best for all involved if you let him be for now, give him time to cool off and leave it up to him when he's ready to come discuss things with you again. For now relax and take the rest of the day off if you need.” Giving the microscope a gentle pat on the shoulder the Prime left the two alone.   
  
Rodimus was sorely tempted to look in on Optimus and Skyfire, make sure the two were alright, but he knew better. This was a big surprise for them both expecting their first sparklings and the tension had already hit a high point. Perceptor’s little slip of the vocalizer had clearly impacted on the tension created in their earlier minor argument and had touched on an already sensitive nerve wire and stripped it raw. He couldn't really blame the shuttle for going off like he did knowing the full story. If that had been his mate who was having a normal simple sparking and had been spoke about like that he may have reacted even worse. Best leave them be for now to work things out.  
  
Wandering back down the hall, he mulled over the pile of data pads still stacked high on his desk. Loads of data pads full of so much boring, processor numbing, rambling, did he mention boring, data… he could go back to that and try and get some finished while mulling over the not so small announcement in a few months and think over all the possible ramifications of said announcement or - as the Prime - he could dump it all for tomorrow and give himself the rest of the day off.

 _‘Rodimus Prime to Blur._ ’ The reply was instant. ‘ _Yes, Prime?_ ’ Grinning, the Prime silkily asked; ‘ _I'm at the main entrance, feel like a little race? Say across the desert to the old refineries and back winner gets the loser on their berth for the rest of the cycle?_ ’ Instead of a reply the blue speedster simply appeared before the young Prime, wide eager grin gracing his pale features.

Blur was one of the few true friends he had who respected his position as Prime, but still treated him like he was the mech they grew up with and occasionally berth partner.  
  
“Ready-when-you-are-Roddi.” The blue mech blurted out in his usual speedy manner, already bouncing on the spot raring to go. “Ok but just one thing. To make it fair, you stay in root mode for the race.” Blur's grin spread impossibly wide as he nodded. “Deal.”

"Ok then we start… NOW!" Rodimus Prime rapidly folded down to his alt mode and took off with a peel of laughter, Blur hot on his tail calling unfair and teasing threats about what he would do when he won.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Sitting perched on the edge of their shared berth Optimus quietly watched as his mate vented out his frustrations.

 

The white shuttle paced back and forth, muttered rants devolving into nonsensical frustrated growls, wings trembling and frame taught. Optimus could feel a mix of hot indignant rage, buzzing annoyance and the barest twinge of gripping fear curling through the bond. Despite his want to intervene the truck-former kept his vocals quiet only using the bond to project his own sense of soothing calm, love and solidarity.

 

Finally after a good 20 minutes of continued, aggravated pacing the shuttle stopped. Turning to his mate the large white mech abruptly dropped to his knees before him, long arms wrapping tightly around a tapered red waist, face pressing into the grill inlaid down the centre of his abdomen.

 

With a soft sigh, relieved they had finally calmed down after such a long and rare show of anger, Optimus gently stroked the curved planes of his mate's helm. Shunting a shaky out vent Skyfire muttered sulkily into his lover's abdomen, “’m sorry.”

 

“It’s alright love. I understand your anger. I know what was said and I agree Perceptor was well out of line, but you know how he tends to speak his mind before thinking through his words. I've allowed him to study me before and I know he was not serious, he would never over step his bounds like that without permission. It isn't within his capacity to willfully do any harm to me or our sparklings.” Optimus reassured the upset shuttle, moving one hand to trail along the leading edge of a large wing.

 

“I know… I know…” The shuttle grumbled. “I just… I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t think I was thinking. Just hearing him say such things about you… about our sparklings… like you were just fascinating specimens he couldn’t wait to throw down on a table and dissect… disgusting.” Squeezing his arms tighter around his mate the shuttle shifted his helm up turning so his audio was pressed to where 3 sparks now resided.

 

It was far too soon in the gestation for there to be any outward signs of the sparklings, but just feeling the soft vibrations of his mate’s inner workings and the barely audible crackling pulse of his strong spark served to calm him a great deal.

 

“I’ve never felt so-so angry, so infuriated. I actually wanted to strike him….It-it scared me a little. I‘m sorry about earlier too…“

 

Blue hands slid under the white mech’s jaw, cupping his face and forcing him to look up into knowing, angular optics. “It’s alright Skyfire but… that’s not all. There is more to it all this isn’t there? Not just what Perceptor said.” Optimus softly stated full derma pursed, optics searching those of his bondmate as his spark gently probed along the bond.

 

If there was one thing the shuttle both loved and loathed about his mate it was his acute perceptiveness about unspoken problems. Almost nothing got past him. “You’re afraid for the sparklings, what others might do if they find out about them. That’s why you lashed out so strongly, and why what Perceptor said earlier cut you so deeply.”

 

Pulling away and hiding his face in his mate’s lap the shuttle nodded. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself. “I… I always thought it would be a decade at least after the war ended before we would have sparklings, when everything was safe, stable. The humans are wary of us, some calling for us to leave and there are still Decepticons out there refusing to accept peace.” A shudder and small flush of fear curled through the white mech’s frame. “What if they find out?”

 

Petting his mate's helm Optimus smiled softly "We'll be alright, love."

 

“No, I don't think you realize what they said about you! How those who were fanatically loyal to Megatron plotted to break into the Ark, drag you out and exact revenge for his death while you were defenseless. If they find out I just know they'll come after you again, you and our sparklings, they-they'll… no, I won’t let them take you from me.” The last part came out as a barely audible snarl. Optimus flinched slightly at the mix of biting anxiety born from fear and heated anger twisting like a surging storm within the bond.

 

It had been a long time since he’d seen his mate this agitated and conflicted. Pushing his own reassurance through their connection, smoothing over the harsh emotional edges, the former Prime concentrated on distracting his lover from the dark well his thoughts were rapidly turning to.

 

“They won’t. With the lack of proper energon supplies and the on going internal conflicts I've been hearing about a strike against me or our sparklings would be a pretty, useless waste of what resources just for revenge that would gain them nothing but more loss.” Optimus stated vehemently while his hands went to work stroking the nearest edge of pale wings.

 

The wide spanned appendages twitched unconsciously shifting into the gentle, knowledgeable fingers as their barer tightened his already firm grip on the smaller mech. Most thought wings were extreme pleasure points for flyers, in a way they were right but simply touching them wasn’t enough. One had to know how to stimulate the air pressure tuned sensors in just the right way to make the sensations turn from menial sensory data to something much more enjoyable.

 

“I don’t ask much of you Sky.” Blue fingers slid along the leading edge of the wings applying just enough pressure at the right angles to stimulate the finely tuned sensory points. “But today is a special day for us. We should be happy and looking forward to meeting our sparklings. Not wallowing in the dangerous realms of terrible what ifs. Please let all that go, just for now… for me.”

 

A soft shunt of warm air through vents signified the shuttle sighing, frame slumping, but the dark paranoia and anxiety continued to cloud the bond.

 

“I remember just a short few years ago you asking me if I wanted to have sparklings once the war was over. After our first night together if memory serves me correct. You looked so nervous and afraid about even asking about it I thought you might have a processor lock up like Prowl.” Optimus teased, blue fingers running soft lines along the wings that had slowly raised and pushed up under his ministrations.

 

The red and blue mech gradually pressed his fingers harder against the rounded edges of his mate’s wings, finger trips scraping along the seams turning the sensation from calming to something more alluring and pleasurable. “I remember it being more specifically if I wanted to have _your_ sparklings.”

 

Optimus couldn’t hide the self indulgent grin as a layer of embarrassment quashed some of the sharp barbs of dark energy prickling through the bond. Skyfire nodded relaxing under his mate’s warm touch some of his bitter, bleak mood lightening.

 

“Mm yeah I remember. I thought you would reject me on the spot for being so forward... thought you might be put off, thinking I was only after one thing from you…” The shuttle wriggled a little to encourage his mate to keep up those wonderful attentions on his wings, heavy shudders passing though his large frame as over tensed hydraulics and cables fell slack. “And I never openly said _my_ sparklings.” Skyfire added pointedly.

 

This earned a deep, rumbling laugh from his lover who obligingly lengthened the comforting caresses to his wings, palms smoothing along the flat surfaces and fingers lightly tweaking the top articulation edges of aileron flaps.

 

Thinking about it now it was rather funny how awkward he had been around Optimus back then. He'd had a handful of lovers before, but none that left him so afraid of rejection, constantly second guessing everything he said or asked for fear he might utterly ruin everything - including their burgeoning friendship - and be left with nothing. More than one relationship had fallen apart in the past just from a simple misunderstanding that he usually made worse in his bumbling attempts to correct it, but they hadn't bothered him quite like the idea of loosing Optimus had.

 

“Your open honesty is what helped me settle on accepting your request for courtship, to be mates… You were the first in a very long time who didn’t care about my status or was out to get in my berth for reputation sake. And first in millennia outside my old friends to regard me like an ordinary mech with base needs like any other and not treat your advances as some kind of 'duty of care' as the others always did. As well meaning as it may have been, that was what it came down to with them.” Moving his ped barely brushing along white thigh plating the truck-former pushed forward his great love for the mech before him displaying his unwavering trust and yearning for him and him alone. There was also an added curl of heated desire beginning to weave its way through the connection.

 

A comfortable silence fell between them as Skyfire soaked up all the soothing, warm attentions being both physically and mentally lavished on him. “You need to work out that pent up negative energy so you have a level processor when you speak to Perceptor again. Rodimus will be fine without me for a while.” The last part came out as a low, suggestive laden purr.

 

Skyfire could barely contain the full body shudder hearing that deep, sultry purr in his mates always tantalizing vocals combined with the raised static charge in his plating. Sitting up he nuzzled and pressed slow, lingering kisses to the false glass of his mates still very warm chest plates, long arms fully loosening from the near crushing grip he had on the smaller mech.

 

The burning anger directed at Perceptor and some of the biting worry and fear from their earlier argument still lingered through the bond, but the shuttle quickly found the pent up anxiety and roiling energy from those emotions being over run by something completely the opposite.

 

Where before anger and frustration combined into an odd sensation in his extremities like they were burning and itching to strike out at something, internals icy cold, spark a black hollow of worry and fear, he now found himself hyper aware and pointedly focused on his lover, bondmate and now the carrier of his sparklings.

 

The feel of their rougher, battle worn plating pressed against his smooth, aerodynamic lines and the inviting warmth radiating from within stirred his spark. A tingling charge skittered across the surface of armor accompanied by a strong flow of unwavering trust, velvety love, warm liquid desire tinged with the spice of heady arousal curling across the bond with each synchronized spark pulse. Combined together it all began to fully sweep aside all the negativity plaguing him.

 

Sliding his knees apart Optimus wriggled forward to curl over his mate as they huddled closer, running his hands over the smooth curves of their helm and back as the shuttle continued to nuzzle and slowly lavish affection on his chest and abdominal plates. The truck former lightly shivered under the attention, blooming heat beginning to trickle from his spark down low into his abdomen and through his extremities, a significant charge beginning to build under his plating. Gradually the kisses turned more fervent, flexible derma and sharp edged denta gently mouthing and nipping at the edges of false glass and metal, large hands stroking and caressing the plates of his lower back and aft.

 

Optimus’ interface drives had already cycled on in anticipation as he had mentally geared himself up or this, but he found it easy to ignore in favor of basking in the all encompassing presence that was his lover and bondmate. It felt so good to be able to finally concentrate 100% on them and their bond and their future with no distractions of his over active processor or his - now former - top rank position. Any other time shirking responsibility so frivolously like this would drive him to work overtime to make up for his own perceived neglect of duty.

 

Though right now, he could care less about duty and responsibility.

 

A sudden flick of a warm, wet glossa up the central line of his chest jolted Optimus from the warm, pleasant haze his processor had fallen into. Using the distraction Skyfire swiftly slid up his mate’s frame capturing full derma plates, denta lightly nibbling at a firm lower lip.

 

Broad chests pressed together with a tiny shower of sparks as the shuttle, slid his arms around his mate's lower back and shoulders leaning his weight into him pushing him back. Optimus was a little surprised as his mate ever so gently guided him to lie back across the solid surface of the berth, mouths never once breaking apart.

 

Normally by now, with the flyer this obviously revved, plating almost glowing with charge, he would simply have thrown his smaller mate back using his heavier frame to pin him down and begin ravaging every square inch of plating he could reach. Pit knows Optimus had done the same to his flyer on innumerable occasions, both knowing full well they wouldn't really damage the other.

 

But then again circumstances had changed for them today. They were going to be creators.

 

That thought drew an extra strong pulse from his already excited spark. The shared pulse from his larger mate was heavy with mutual exhilaration and a thick layer of strong arousal, the earlier barbed edge of darkness and turmoil smoothed to a low fuzz.

 

Sliding in between his mates white thighs, already widely spread to accommodate his broader frame, the shuttle pushed is hips down pinning them in place. Large white hands went to work pressing into flared side seams, scraping under overlapping plates in search of known hot spots, nimble deep blue fingers reciprocating in kind.

 

It didn’t take long before frames became heated, panels coaxed opened with charge visibly racing across plating in short arcs. Optimus shifted his hips as much as his mate allowed in a circling side to side motion, grinding their spikes together. Reaching down he teasingly slid his fingers along the side of his lover’s larger spike with a feather light touch, drawing a low rumbling moan from deep within the white shuttles chest.

 

Glossa curling around his lovers, drawing it into his own mouth, the truck-former sucked at it while his fingers wrapped firmly around the thick spike beginning a slow stroking pattern, free hand tweaking and caressing the back of the shuttle’s neck. Skyfire rocked against Optimus, crushing their lips together as liquid heat rushed up from his groin to his spark and back.

 

Optimus always felt so wonderful, tasted so good and knew exactly how to touch him to drive the flyer crazy with pure wanton desire. He was aware of what his mate was up to, using his words, spark and body to seduce him in an effort to draw him from the dark pit his emotions had been spiraling towards and to be honest it was working, but he wasn’t about to dilute their interfacing - their love making - down to a means of working off bad energy. As his mate had said, this was a great day for them and he wanted to show his love and gratitude for the mech who was to bear his sparklings.

 

He felt strong thighs rise up and loop around his waist as his mate pumped his length fervently, talented fingers working him from tip to base setting off every sensor point they could reach. The strong pulses of desire, hot arousal and need for more coming from their spark accompanied a lust laden message through the bond. :: I want you. :: Skyfire shivered from the intensity of the emotions attached to the transmission, body nearly pulsing with want, but he had other ideas first.

 

Pulling away, mouths separating with a wet pop and short fizz of sparks, he lifted himself up and off his mate watching those beautifully scared features rapidly shift from blissful passion to stark confusion. Pressing a quick kiss to the slightly parted, full derma Skyfire grinned as he shifted back down Optimus’ frame, optics glowing with promise. Sliding his hands down red flanks, fingers pausing to caress the slightly raised, thickened patches of healed metal here and there the shuttle projected his intensions earning a deep shudder and soft whimper from his mate.

 

Smoothing his hands down to the slight flare of white hips, the shuttle watched Optimus’ faceplates intently as one large hand encompassed his mate’s spike and began a slow, but firm stroking pattern. The shuttle's thin derma pulled into a devious smirk as white hips bucked up into his hand, small moans slipping from Optimus’ throat. Dipping down, Skyfire took the warm spike into his mouth, glossa swirling around the trip as his hand continued to pump up and down, occasionally teasing press and swipe of his thumb between damp, pliant slit within open valve plates.

 

The little soft gasps and moans he drew from his mate and the charge sparking around his hand, derma and glossa sent delicious shudders through his frame. He reached down between his own thighs with his free hand briefly massaging his outer valve plates before gripping and rubbing his own length in time with the motions of his other hand and mouth. Optimus’ blue helm fell back with a dull thunk against the berth, tips of long audial finials scrapping at the surface as the truck-former squirmed under the flyers skilled touch.

 

Optimus bit down on his own fingers, muffling a low cry as his lover abruptly swallowed a good portion his length, the tip bumping against the back of his throat intake. He fought to keep his wriggling hips still and shuddering legs from slamming around the shuttle's head as his spike was sucked into a warm, wet mouth and released over and over again, each movement of that slippery glossa and light scrape of sharp edged denta around him sending sharp bolts of pleasure straight to his spark. The sensation added to by a teasing finger worming its way between the outer folds of his valve entrance and rubbing against the set of sensory nodes just within the rim making his slick walls, cycle down and clench on nothing.

 

“Ah… Primus, Skyfire… ngh!” The blue and red mech’s back arched up as the familiar flood of liquid fire and prickles of sharp charge spread through his frame, engorged spark pulsing vigorously within its casing. “So… ah… s-so close… please, oh Primus, please Skyfire! I want you! Please!”

 

Their pleas and loud throaty moans sent a huge flush of charged heat straight to the shuttle’s interface circuitry. Swiftly standing, he grabbed strong, long legs just behind the knee joints forcefully pulling them up and open. Barely giving his mate’s pleasure addled processor time to figure out what was coming Skyfire moved forward pushing against his mate’s legs forcing his knees towards his shoulders lower legs draping over the shuttles rounded white shoulders to fully expose his vulnerable interface equipment.

 

Optimus’ optics shot wide, mouth opening with a harsh scream, fingers curling into blunted claws on the berth as Skyfire’s spike speared into him with little warning. A strangely pleasurable stinging burn shot up his aft as his mate’s large girth forcefully stretched and spread him, setting off every internal sensor point and filling him completely.

 

Already so close to the edge, having his sensitized valve filled so abruptly proved too much. Scream devolving into a long, drawn out moan originating deep in his chest, overload crashed through him. Hot, viscous transfluid splattered over his grill, cables and hydraulics pulling taught, protective coolant flooding his valve as arcs of pure energy visibly shot between red, blue and white plating.

 

Working through the strong spasms around his spike, the shuttle hastily moved within his mate, drawing out their overload as he struggled towards his own peak. He watched as the utter bliss of release played across his lover’s features, body beautifully arched and trembling under him, seizing fingers scrapping into the surface of the berth.

 

The shock of slick cold wrapped so incredibly tightly around his hot length combined with the charge still jumping to his plating and the flood of near overpowering euphoria hammering through the bond it only took a few deep, fast thrusts to push him over. Growling out his own release, Skyfire gripped tightly to shivering legs as he hilted himself one last time, transfluid spilling forth.

 

The sudden hot rush of fluids flooding so deep within him drew a heavy shudder and soft whimper from the truck-former. He was still too incoherent from his own overload to do much more than lay back and take the weight of his mate, pressing against the back of his legs pushing his knee joints towards his shoulders at an uncomfortably acute angle.

 

Minutes ticked by as Skyfire savored the bliss of post coital aftershocks. No matter what they did or how they did it, he found interfacing with Optimus was always amazing and satisfying. An almost ticklish brush through the bond jerked him out of his semi lucid state. Flicking his optics back on, not remembering when he shut them off, he found his mate staring up at him from between his wide spread knees helm cocked to the side with a tired, yet impish look in their optics.

 

“Skyfire.” Optimus murmured in a soft, sweet tone. “Mmm… yes?” The shuttle grinned back sounding as if he were over-charged. “I love you and I like being still connected with you, but,” Then Skyfire felt heels tapping at the edge of his raised wings, “can I please put my legs down now? My joints weren’t designed to bend this far or support weight like this.”

 

With a string of apologies Skyfire swiftly moved back, ducking out from under his mates legs earning a relieved sigh from Optimus along with dull pops and creaks of realigning joints. Sitting up, interface panel already closed the red and blue mech beckoned his mate over, looping an arm around his back under broad wings and snuggling into his side as they dropped down next to him on the berth.

 

Optimus gently stroked over the blue glass of his mate's cockpit, the shuttle in turn un-subspaced a cloth to gently clean off the remaining evidence of their encounter. “Feeling better now?” Optimus asked resting his helm in the crook of the shuttles neck.

 

“I knew what you were up to the whole time you know.” The tone was low, peppered with disapproval, but softened by a lit of amusement earning a warm chuckle from the truck-former. “Of course, but it worked didn’t it? You’re not projecting black energy anymore and you've worked out the stress.”

 

The shuttle simply grabbed his mate in a bear hug, drawing out a short bark of laughter. "Yeah, yeah sneaky slagger, but thanks. I'll have a talk with Perceptor tomorrow, iron this all out. Last thing I want is him jumping at the sight of me and not properly speaking."

 

"If you feel you're ready then that's fine." Optimus was just happy his mate was over his rare bout of anger and that the little bit of internal conflict was already over before it had a chance to utterly blow up.

 

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the others physical warmth and the soft ebb and flow of their bond.

 

“Still can’t believe we’re gonna be creators.” Skyfire suddenly murmured in awe. Releasing the tight hold he had on his mate he gently smoothed a large hand over brightly coloured chest plates. Royal blue fingers came to rest over thick white ones giving them a gentle squeeze.

 

A soft, lopsided smile spread across the truck-formers features as he focused down on the excited and nervous eddies in the bond. “Well love, we’ve got about 18 earth months for it to settle in before we will be welcoming our first creations into the world. And I know you'll be the best sire and creator these they could ever ask for.”

 

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

“You know, you really don’t have to come with me for this. I mean you have other priorities. There are plans for your bonding to make and you've got - what - 8 days to go before you’re in the clear, right? Stress right now can’t be good for you or the sparklings. Skyfire will kill me when he gets back from Canada if I get you stressed out. Well maybe not kill, but he'd certainly ream me so hard I'd be lucky to have audials left by the end.” Rodimus Prime rambled, beginning to pace in front of his desk, trying not to throw nervous glances at the former Prime.

 

“I know, but Ratchet said they are fine. A little stress won’t bother me or them.” Optimus patiently replied with a hint of amusement as he watched the young, nervous Prime pace.

 

“Ok, ok. There shouldn’t be anything you need to be there for anyway. I mean I’ve done this while you were in stasis. A lot of times, real lot… still, don't really get along with the human media any better now that I did before you dumped this position on me. Not that I'm angry with you or anything about that. It's just they are so picky, nosy and pushy all the time. And the last press meeting didn’t exactly end well and I kinda lost it towards the end cause of most of them… cause well they, well…"

 

Looking up to the red and blue mech and seeing them watching him, not judging, and just quietly waiting for him to elaborate in his own time. For the first time in many years he properly looked at the patient, kind, damn near perfect mech whose lingering shadow he still lived under even now, the emotional dam broke.

 

"They just wouldn’t let up with the comparisons to you!" The young Prime barked. "Questioning and second guessing everything I did or said. Pulling up all the stupid and bull headed things I've done as reasons I wasn't good enough,why someone else should have my position. Reminding me over and over I'd never be you! Those fragging idiots wouldn’t give me a pit damned second to explain anything and threatened to withdraw all help they had offered just ‘cause you weren’t in charge anymore, cause I was just a idiotic punk who got this position cause I was in the right spot and the right time to take power from you and hadn't done anything in their eyes to prove I was worthy of any of it! I've been busting my aft for them and this is how they repay me!”

 

Hansom, so young, features twisted with the ugly severity of long contained indignant rage. “Who the frag do they think they are? When did they suddenly decide we couldn’t be trusted without you in power, after everything we’ve done for them! After all the mech blood and metal we've shed and the sparks snuffed out just to keep this pathetic planet from being burn to ash. They treat those deaths as if those mechs were nothing, as if the lives laid down for their worthless, over bred, fleshy hides were insignificant!” Large blue hands gently gripping the young Prime’s shoulders barely giving him time to strike out before he is pulled into a firm but soothing embrace.

 

“I know.”

 

Rodimus found himself returning the hug with little restraint, arms wrapping around the equally large mech and gripping tightly to thick plating. Kup never let him do this even before he was classed as an adult, but since Optimus had taken him in he’d found the mech never once brushed him off or told him he was too old to still be wanting something as simple as being held.

 

Growling, spitting some of the vile insults he knew at all those who questioned, belittled and dismissed him, Rodimus shook with pent up rage, fingers gripping hard enough at red back plates to stress the metal. All the while, strong arms held him tightly to a warm frame, a large hand stroking along the underside of a yellow, wing like spoiler.

 

Soon the rage dissipated leaving Rodimus feeling emotionally spent, yet strangely relieved. “Got it all out?” Optimus asked gently.

 

The young Prime nodded, stepping back and taking a long cleansing in and out vent not able to meet his adoptive creators optics. “Sorry about that… I-I never wanted you to see me like that and all, and I can't blame you for any of that. It's not fair on you and well, I'm still learning to deal with all this 'public image' slag Jazz keeps blathering about, but again Optimus you don’t need to come with me. I can do this.”

 

An awkward smile quirked the edge of Optimus' derma, slanted optics glowed mirth. “I know.”

 

“You’re sounding like a broken human record Op.” Rodimus griped giving his mentor a good natured slap on the shoulder. Nodding the red and blue mech rested a large hand upon a burnished red shoulder giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

 

“Remember what I told you Rodimus. It wasn’t easy for me to begin with either. Dealing with the Council, living in the footsteps of the greatly loved Sentinel Prime, the Autobots then the humans. In the beginning none of the Autobots trusted me coming up from nothing and no where. They believed I could never live up to my predecessor, that I was far too young, inexperienced and naive of war and death to last and would be crushed by it within a vorn, but I'm still here. For the humans they didn't believe I could be as truly honest and trustworthy as I am and not turn on them at a moments notice or had ulterior motives. It takes time, patience and the determination to take it all in your stride, learn from it, use it and not give up.” The hand slides up, gently cupping the younger’s jaw, encouraging him to meet him optic to optic. “Stay the course and before you know it you’ll have the trust and respect you have rightly earned. There will always be those who would seek to manipulate or attempt to undermine you, it is a fact of life being in a position of power, and your greatest weapon against this is your friends. Keep them close and they will help you in surprising ways."

 

"One of those ways will be me helping build your image as Prime to the human populace. I will attend this conference with you today as a two fold approach to your problem. As things are I need to make an appearance sooner rather than later to assure the human public that I am well and confident in my choice - the Matrix's choice - in making you my successor. By giving my blessings and showing unwavering trust and confidence in you as Prime they will begin to follow in kind.”

 

“Yeah… I guess so…” Nodding Rodimus Prime takes one last long in and out vent washing away the last vestiges of anger and nerves from his systems in a blast of heated air. Winning grin spreading across his derma, posture straightening, he finally felt ready. He could do this.

 

“Well time to face the music as they say.”

 

The vultures, a.k.a. the human news media, were something the young Prime had been avoiding direct confrontations with as much as possible over the last few months. He’d never had a great love for the human news casters from the moment he set foot on this planet and his first few weeks as the new Prime solidified that into an intense dislike, bordering on all out hate.

 

His stride strong and confident, Rodimus Prime made his way was towards the main entrance of the Ark where the media waited, the former Prime following in his step just to his right, close friend, confidant and unofficial bodyguard Springer at his left.

 

Cycling a few calming vents of warm mid summer air he cleared his processor and blocked out that annoying little nagging voice threatening to chew away at his resolve. Everything would go fine and he would be walking away from this meeting with all parties happy, have hopefully earned his people back some of the lost support of the general human populace and regained some public face after his last rather volatile public media outing. With Optimus backing him he felt much more motivated and confident than he had in months.

 

He couldn’t lose.

* * *

 

Large metallic feet carefully picked their way through pine trees tall enough to reach to the white behemoths shoulders. Regular comm. pings relayed back and forth between the small science team of Wheeljack, Perceptor and himself, plus 12 human scientists told the large mech he was almost at his destination.

 

’ _10 degrees south, south east and 27 more meters down from your current position and you’re there Skyfire_.’ Wheeljack’s jovial voice filtered through the comm. as Skyfire followed the instructions.

 

The inventor had been nearly vibrating with excitement since the humans approved the first surveys for his teams weather based power generator high in the Canadian Mountains. Things were still a little edgy between the shuttle and Perceptor, but they were back on good friends terms much to Wheeljack's delight and Optimus' relief.

 

Carefully climbing down a steep slope to his destination, the flyer took a moment to look out across the beautiful display put on by earth's nature in the mid afternoon sun. Activating internal recording devices alongside his memory banks he took in the glorious panorama, committing both sight and sound to file so he could easily download it to a holovid to share with his mate and their sparklings once they arrived. Optimus loved everything about earth and had eluded in their talks about their future that he was considering staying on Earth for the sparklings birth. Making a point of memorizing the location coordinates for future reference he moved on soon receiving a double ping from his GPS and Wheeljack to confirm that he had reached his destination.

 

Removing the scanner stakes from his subspace, he carefully placed them in the ground in an octagonal pattern and flicked each one on it turn and waited for the radius ground and air data to slowly roll in. Finding an outcrop the shuttle gently lowered his weight to sit as he idly flicked through the first bits of data coming up on his HUD.

 

It was going to take a few hours and he would need to stay put the whole time to make sure none of the scanners lost signal and to monitor the data collection for any anomalies and errors. Sighing through his vents sending up puffs of steam the shuttle settled in, half reading the results, half absorbed in the bond enjoying the echoes of warmth, happiness and pride he could feel from his mate. The media conference must be going well.

 

So focused in on his work and bondmate the shuttle didn’t notice the displacement of air only a matter of 20 meters away. He did however notice the touch of hot metal at the back of his helm and the high pitched whine of a charged weapon.

 

Power rushed through his lines as instincts learned and honed in the war kicked into high gear.

 

Violently twisting around he flung himself away from danger, hands fumbled for a weapon he no longer carried as he scrambled for cover. The shuttle was surprised when no shots rang out, only laughter echoed through the chilled air. Peaking out from behind a less than sturdy rock formation the shuttle found the current Decepticon leader, Starscream and his trine mate Skywarp laughing hysterically, though it seemed the self proclaimed Warlord took the most glee in the shuttle's panicked flight. The tri coloured flyer laughing so hard his vents were heaving gushes out of steam as his systems tried to maintain level temperatures.

 

Wings hiked high, face neutral the white shuttle slowly edged out from behind cover, arms crossed over his chest to both hide his embarrassment and display lack of amusement.

 

“Oh, Skyfire that face was utterly priceless! Who knew a big lug like you could move so fast.” The tri coloured seeker snickered, a sharp edged smile spreading his dark derma.

 

Unimpressed, Skyfire held his stance. “What do you want Starscream?”

 

The smile gracing the seekers dark derma and friendly demeanor faltered a moment as he snipped, "That is _Lord_ Starscream now my dear friend. I simply want to chat." He was quick to throw back on a sweet, yet slippery grin.

 

Turning to his companion, Starscream said something over the comm. before waving the dark seeker away.

 

Looking from his trine leader to the shuttle and back the purple and black seeker sneered at the back of the tri-coloured seekers helm before disappearing in a soft whump and displacing of air.

 

Finally alone Starscream focused his attention on large white mech before him, optics sharp with predatory focus, a unpleasant smile curling the edges of dark derma, driving the shuttle to tense and shuffle back half a step.

 

“Oh, come now, Skyfire. We’re all friends here. Can’t I just drop in occasionally have a little joke and chat for old times sake?” Starscream wings fanning in a display of openness, friendship, while taking a few short steps towards the shuttle.

 

For each step the seeker took the shuttle took two backwards.

 

“What do you want Starscream?” Skyfire bit out, boosters heating in preparation for a quick take off. He knew he could never out maneuver the much sleeker, lighter flyer but given a few seconds headway he could outrun them on sheer endurance and altitude.

 

“Straight to the point then? Alright. I’m looking for confirmation on some information I've had for some years.” Dropping the nice, friendly act the seeker’s red optics slid up and down the bulky white frame, dark faceplate twisted into exaggerated thoughtful look.

 

“I’ve heard some interesting rumors about you, you know. Little rumors that you, of all mechs, of all the mechs in the entire Autobot army, have been - now this I find hard to believe - screwing the old Prime for years. Since the Autobots took your pathetic aft in if these little tales are to be believed.”

 

Skyfire blinked once with widened optics at the tri-coloured mech’s audacious bluntness but said nothing. Sharp grin spreading wide, blue hands came to rest on red hips. “So it is true. Skyfire you are so easy to read it’s laughable.” The seeker teased only receiving a cold stare in return.

 

A questioning brush against the bond was soothed with reassurance as the shuttle clamped down tightly on the irritation beginning to tickle through his lines. He would fill his mate in on this encounter later, right now he needed to keep all his attention on the notoriously short tempered and less than stable mech before him.

 

Ruby red optics slid up and down his frame with harsh scrutiny. “Hrmf… I personally don’t see the attraction. He must be just ‘facing you out of pity or Megatron cracked his processor casing one too many times and he lost all sense of aesthetics. I’m leaning more towards pity fucks, Optimus looks like the type.” Starscream mocked using the human curse to add to the insult, watching for a reaction from the normally easily flustered shuttle.

 

Allowing his stance to loosen while maintaining a degree of readiness, the large white mech simply twitched his wings in clear display of dismissal. Starscream could insult him and his bondmate all he wanted, the words may sting but that was all they were. He knew what he and Optimus shared. They could literally hide nothing for one another and not once did the former Prime ever pity him, if anything he saw something of a kindred spirit in the shuttle that bloomed into love, then a sparkbond.

 

“Unless you have some other reason to be here aside from throwing infantile insults at me, Starscream, then please leave. I have a project currently underway that I need to attend to if its going to be completed before nightfall.” Skyfire stated flatly, leveling a withering glare at the smaller mech.

 

Huffing in displeasure the seeker’s pretty dark face plates scrunched up in a nasty sneer. Clawed blue hands curl into tight fists at scarlet hip plates, red optics flaring brightly with barely contained ire. Skyfire shifted back a little, diverting more power to his boosters for a lightening quick ignition as the seeker seethed, vents shunting out long streams of hot air, boiling with rage at being so lightly dismissed like a commoner.

 

He was Starscream! Lord and Commander of the Decepticon army who should rightfully be feared and respected by all!

 

Visibly swallowing down his rage Starscream straightened himself, wings sweeping back in a tight V formation. "Grown some metal now we’re screwing the old Prime have we? Ha… pathetic.” The seeker sniffed, fingers brushing imaginary dust from his lithe frame in a deliberate pattern meant to emphasize his form.

It was a jarring switch of emotional states from raging to almost indifferent, but the shuttle didn't miss what the seeker was doing in that sudden change.

 

Making a point of tilting his hips and loosening his wings to fan out to their maximum spread in a one of these most blatant come ons the Skyfire had witnessed in many years. A predatory, vicious smile spread across the seekers previously rage pinched features when he caught the large mech looking where the seeker wanted.

 

Starscream knew how to use both his mind and body to twist and manipulate gullible mechs into doing or saying or giving him what he wanted. A little tilt here, brush of fingers there, well placed words in between and they'd all but be spilling their guts to him before they realized their vocalizer and lower, instinct driven processors had betrayed them.

 

“In truth I do have a reason to be here. It’s a proposal of sorts.” Tapping one slender finger against his chin the seeker watched the shuttle out of the corner of his optic delighting in how his prey's frame visibly tensed.

 

“That whiney little brat of a Prime won’t let me even properly explain my little proposal for peace, not just a cease fire, but a full peace treaty. A true end to the war entirely, if you will.” Seeing he had the shuttles attention he pressed on. “It’s very, very simple really. I get to have something I’ve wanted for such a loooong time, and you little Autobots get the peace, unity, that sweet, loving all are one slag you’ve fought oh so hard for.” The seeker said struggling not to spit the last few words out like rotten energon. The soft, sweet effect he was going for though was mostly ruined by his high pitched, scratchy vocals.

 

Cyan blue optics narrowed in skepticism. Nothing was ever simple with Starscream, not back in the science academy and not now. Especially, not now.

 

Something flicked briefly across the bond, muddying the previous warm, contented emotions. Mistaking it for a questioning of his state Skyfire again sent a flourish of love and reassurance.

 

Deliberately taking the bait the shuttle reluctantly asked. “And what is this very, very simple proposal of yours? And why are you telling me about it? I have no sway over the decisions made by the high command.” Skyfire pressed, apprehension about the answer slowly creeping into his spark.

 

“Oh, but you do have influence where it counts my dear, Skyfire.” Beginning to pace, hips swaying the seeker idly waved his wings back and forth. “You see, you have what I want. The power I’ve been seeking to claim and use to gain the one thing I have wanted for millennia. You’ve had it for some years now and you hold the key to delivering my proposal to the intended audience.”

 

Quirking an optic ridge in confusion, the white mech felt the apprehension grow into a cold lump in his tanks. “You see I’ve tried getting to speak to them one on one to explain my small price for peace, but Rodimus Prime won’t even consider it. Do you know why? Because he knows they would accept. Self sacrificing simpleton he is. He may have refused me so many times before, but I know for a fact that now, with his greatest dream of seeking the war done and dusted forever all but sitting in the palm of his hand he would do anything to see it happen… give anything.” Starscream purred the harsh sound grating on Skyfire’s audials.

 

Processor rapidly pulling the words over it took a scant few seconds for it to all click into place. Right then the shuttle swore his energon lines felt like they had been flooded with ice laden coolant, spark lunching violently in its casing. He couldn’t possibly be thinking… could he? Did he know what Optimus was? Did he know about the bond?

 

“Put plainly, I want Optimus. I want him to accompany me for one earth month, the date of the commencement to be of my choosing. He would be treated fairly, kept safe and only be seen or attended to by me. He may no longer be Prime but he still a holds power like no other, power that has been so far wasted and that needs be put to good use for _my_ kind, our kind. We are sitting on the edge of extinction, our kind, sparks born for the sky are all but gone thanks to the Council and their genocidal stupidity, but I can change that. We will be strong and our numbers can grow again. What Megatron failed to comprehend was-”

 

“No.” Hard blue bored into flaming red as the two flyers stared each other down.

 

“Oh, but you haven’t heard all-“, “No, Starscream.” Skyfire hissed anger swelled within his spark at the seekers sheer, unadulterated audacity to even think to ask such a deplorable thing. Reducing Optimus down to a glorified breeding machine like the days of old, where despite being held in such high regard and treated to everything they could want a breeders true worth came down to one point; how many strong, healthy sparklings they could produce. Once they could no longer produce sparklings, or their young were found weak and sickly their worth quickly faded along with all the privilege that came with it.

 

A watery burst of discomfort flooded through his spark passing mostly unnoticed in the shuttle’s bout of fury.

 

“He is not some bargaining piece you can just use for your own gain and throw aside once you have what you want. I know what you’re like.” Plates tightening, hot air rushing from his vents in billows of steam.

 

“Times may have changed, you may have changed, but one thing has stayed the same. You want what others have. Always greedily wanting more, grubbing for any sort of power or superiority you could get over others, even if it means trampling over innocents to get it.”

 

Wings shuddering, the shuttle loomed over the smaller mech. “You only want him because Megatron did and once you have him you won’t stick to any promise you make. Once you have him I know you won't let him go even if he gives you what I know you want. And with the war over your position within the Decepticons would be moot. Why would they need a Warlord with no war?” Skyfire spat, leaving out 'why would we need more of the likes of you'.

 

An odd, echoed twinge made his spark twitch, body jerking in response to the phantom ache suddenly blooming within his chest.

 

Growling low in his chest the seeker seethed at the impudence being thrown in his face by the lowly shuttle. No one spoke to him like that.

 

“How dare you, you wretched waste of scrap metal! What I am offering is a pittance compared to what I could demand!” Starscream shrieked, plates flattened and hiked up wings quivering with fury. Screeching and howling out his rage, clawed finger jabbing into the white mech’s chest plates he didn’t even notice as the shuttle went still, optics staring dully into space.

 

Focusing down Skyfire followed the line of the pitching and swirling ache beginning to wind its way around his spark. Pushing through several questioning pulses he received mixed almost incoherent slather of fear, pain and anxiety in a roiling sea of muddled sensations his spark hammering in its casing from a lack of a clear response.

 

Though the distance between them was great there should be no problems projecting clear, concise signals for their state of being and mood. The fact nothing he received from Optimus made sense saw the flyer visibly shaking with apprehension completely forgetting the screeching tri-coloured mech before him.

 

Then, it happened.

 

The muddle of sensations and emotions culminated into one sharp burn of tearing pain, fear, nausea and horrified denial before the connection faltered. Skyfire's spark lurched in disorientation as the once wide open bond fell into an almost completely muted state, hardly a wisp of anything making it through to the shuttle from his mate.

 

Seeing he didn’t have their attention anymore the irate seeker punched the shuttle hard in the abdominal plates. “You impudent slag heap! Question my authority! My integrity then you pit damned well ignore me! This will not-“

 

Starscream’s shrieking was cut short as the shuttle roughly shoved him away, optics staring off in the general direction of the Ark, face stricken. The seeker didn’t even get a chance to retaliate before the shuttle’s boosters’ fired pushing the mech high into the sky in a streak of super heated vapor and back blast of after burners.

 

Firing off a volley of useless null ray shots at the vapor trail of the shuttle, Starscream vented heavily. This was not over. No one denied this seeker what he wanted, especially when he was so frustratingly close to getting it.

 

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Rodimus Prime watched in shock horror as Optimus leaned against a wall near the Ark’s entrance, luminescent blue and purple-pink energon splattering across the ground at his feet as processing tanks abruptly reversed. Yelling at Springer to patch through an emergency call Ratchet and keep the humans back he rushed to the stricken mech’s side barely managing to catch him as shaking legs faltered.

 

Lowering the large mech to sit on the rocky ground he could only watch helplessly as he shivered and groaned in pain clutching at his chest. A low, muffled grinding sound preceded another wrenching purge adding to the mix of processed and unprocessed energon staining the dusty earth.

 

All that kept running through the young Prime's processor was this shouldn't be happening.

 

“Optimus what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong!” The young Prime begged, struggling to bite down on the rising fear and panic threatening to swallow his spark as the mech he held began to visibly weaken. “Please tell me! Is it a virus? The sparklings? What?” He only receives a garbled stutter before the truck-former curls in on himself, hand clamping over his mouth to unsuccessfully hold back the flood as another torrent of ejected energon spilling forth from his rebelling tanks.

 

No one purged unless they were suffering severe internal damage, had a virus running rampant causing catastrophic systems breakdown, or… That panic he'd been battling down suddenly came roaring back swallowing his spark in a wave of cold, bitter nausea. The sparklings…

 

No, no, think don't let it drown your logic, focus Rodimus snapped at himself. Got to get him inside, get him to Ratchet, now.

 

Looping an arm across the broad back and pulling one large red arm over his shoulder Rodimus pushed hard, straining a little with the almost dead weight of the other mech as he levered them from the ground. "Come on, I'm getting you to Ratchet ok? Just hold on to me."

 

Optimus leaned limply against the solid body beside him blindly following their command as sharp pain hammered through his chest with every wild beat of his spark. He just wanted the pain to stop and slowly building awareness of the source of the pain to be false. To just be some missed damage, a broken line, something anything but what his system readouts were beginning to tell him.

 

Rodimus could distantly hear the human media clamoring for information, screaming questions over one another, demanding answers and trying to get video and photos of the spectacle. Springer and the small security detail of Smokescreen, Cliffjumper and Bumblebee did their best to keep them away calling for calm and trying to corral the humans back to the conference stage. Bearing them no mind, the young Prime moved as fast as he was able all but dragging the older mech inside the Ark barking at bots to get out of his way and yelling for Ratchet.

 

And to think, things had been going so well…

 

Simply having Optimus make an appearance seemed to go over well with the attending media, many immediately demanding answers on his decision for the new Prime and take on the young mech. He was more than happy to give the humans a thorough, yet succinct history of the Matrix and how Prime's were chosen. He regaled them with his best experiences with the young mech who succeeded him, expressing his great confidence and trust in the new Prime. With all the needed show of confidence done and his stepping down from his role of primary leader of the Autobot's officially announced he rapidly steered the gathering towards its original intentions.

 

Now and again a few of the reporters threw in unnecessary or completely irrelevant comments trying to bait the young Prime into one of his reactionary responses. When that failed some even went as far as ignoring the young Prime in favor of throwing sometimes inappropriate questions at the former Prime again in hopes of sparking something off or rile the young Prime in hopes of another explosive reaction for their ratings.

 

They only received firm dismissals and reminders of what they were there for and directed back to the appointed speaker, Rodimus Prime. Any such questions unrelated to their current discussions thrown at the new Prime were carefully ignored or rebutted with a simple 'That is not what we are here to discuss. Please keep to discussion points or you will be asked to leave'. Each well measured rebuttal and answer by the new Prime was quietly praised via text based comms., bolstering the young mech's confidence in his role as Prime and in himself as the proceedings dragged on.

 

An hour into the conference Rodimus had noticed Optimus beginning to behave a little strange. His previously consistent flow of guiding messages brimming with praise for his efforts had completely stopped and he the normally stoic, patient mech was noticeably fidgeting. He shifted from ped to ped growing noticeably uncomfortable and agitated. The unsettled movements went as far as him completely ignoring what was going on in front of him in favor of throwing furtive glances towards the sky, blue fingers pressing and rubbing at his chest.

 

Growing concerned with the odd performance Rodimus pinged the other mech’s comm. with a general ‘ _are you ok?_ ’ code. Initially there was no reply, increasing the young mech's unease. Pinging them twice more he finally got a response.

 

The signal came back as ‘ _negative_ ’.

 

Seconds later Optimus turned and all but ran with stumbling steps from the staging area heading towards the Ark arms wrapped around his chest and waist. He didn’t even make it in the entrance before the first purge hit.

 

Hefting his burden Rodimus tried to quicken the pace only to stumble as a particularly violent spasm abruptly racked through Optimus frame wringing an agonized shriek of pain from the mech and nearly sending both of them to the ground. Easing them to the floor Rodimus tried to hold the red and blue mech still as another spasm rocked his frame, the last dregs of energon still in his tanks ejecting all over the young mech’s flame decorated chest.

 

The bitter, almost acidic scent of processed and unprocessed energon along with digestive fluids mixed together in a purplish blue film running down his front made his spark twitch and flux sending a brief wave of nausea through his neural lines, but he didn’t once let go of the pain wracked mech. A couple of bots approached them rightly worried about the situation, but the Prime immediately sent them running yelling at them to back off and clear the way. Last thing he need was a crowd of slack jawed gawkers mulling around them and getting in the way.

 

' _Ratchet! Where in the fragging pit are you?!?!_ ' Rodimus yelled into his comm. anxiety and an energy based form of adrenalin rushing through every circuit in his frame setting his nerves on end. Optimus stared up at him optics wide, almost bled white and swirling with pain and a deep spark wrenching fear the likes of which the young Prime had never seen in this mech before.

 

"It's ok, you'll be ok. Ratchet's coming. Everything will be fine." His words were gentle, soft in an attempt to ease the other mech's fears, though he knew it all rang hollow. His processor failed him for anything more than those simple, generic responses everyone gave during the war unable to come up with anything else to say to help the terrified, pain stricken mech in his arms.

 

' _Stay calm I’m on my way! Optimus tried to contact me, but I didn't get any solid information from him. What’s your location? What state is he currently in?'_ Came the quick fire, yet surprisingly calm and level reply from the medic. Fighting for millennia in a war Ratchet had learned panicking never helped anyone.

 

' _I’m in the main hall with him. He’s down and in too much pain to move he’s clutching at his chest and he’s purged five times now. Five fragging times Ratchet! For pits sake hurry!'_ He yelled back, staring down the hall willing the white and red mech to appear, unable to continue looking at the panic stricken, pleading optics of his mentor.

 

Feeling a suddenly grab at his arm Rodimus was forced to look back down finding Optimus struggling to speak, vocals crackling, vents stuttering and heaving. “It’s alright Optimus just lay still Ratchet’s coming. You’ll be ok.”

 

Venting hard, the expressed air scalding hot from stress Optimus bit out, “S-spa-arkling-s… so-omethi-ing is-is wr-wr-rong… h-hurt-ts… I-I can-an’t… I c-can’t l-loose them… pl-please… I can’t-“ The choked stuttering devolve into a harsh cry as the mech curls up on himself again, body quaking with renewed agony.

 

A loud screeching caw signaled the arrival of the young medic-in-training Swoop, a collapsed medical sling grasped tightly in his claws. Hot on the flying Dinobot’s tail was First Aid and Ratchet.

 

A short lived burst of relief flooded through the Prime at the sight. After what felt like a small eternity, help had finally arrived.

 

Wasting no time the white and red ambulance shoved Rodimus away from Optimus, ignoring the indignant yelp, and brining out a hand held diagnostics unit beginning preliminary scans. Other diagnostic equipment and monitors quickly spread out on the floor, Swoop diligently assembled the transport sling as First Aid set to work. Plates were pulled and various wires and cables unceremoniously jammed into medical ports and lines in the red and blue mech's frame, necessity dictating speed over comfort.

 

Rodimus Prime could only watch on as First Aid did his best to hold down the thrashing mech as Ratchet pressed a large, pressurized syringe into one of the now exposed fluid lines near the base of the mech’s neck. Seconds later Optimus’ wildly seizing and flailing frame wilted, ventilations slowing to wheezing hiccups and dulled optics staring listlessly up at the ceiling.

 

Barking orders to the two young medics, the truck-former’s now limp frame was quickly gathered up and placed on the medical sling along with the monitoring devices. Rodimus sat slumped on the floor as he blankly watched the medical team take off at speed down the hall quickly disappearing from sight. His whole being was a buzz with raw energy, war honed instincts geared up ready for a non-existent fight, while his spark felt heavy and hollow within his chest, completely emotionally spent.

 

In all his function he’d seen many a mech laying in agonizing pain, several slowly dying and all he could offer was his presence, a kind word here, some lie that it would all be fine there, but he’d never felt quite as utterly useless and numb as he had right at that moment. The ways he's learned to deal with this kind of thing during the war completely fled his processor upon seeing his mentor, his adoptive creator who'd never shown fear even when he was on the edge of death, lying there terrified beyond belief and looking to him of all mech's for reassurance, for help.

 

Staring down at his stained armor with blank disinterest a soft hiss issued from his frame as stale air he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in, eased out as the tension bled from him. Numbly he ran a finger through the mess covering his front, wondering if he should go to the wash racks and clean up before confronting the media again… or trying to get in to the med-bay. The cleanliness nutter that Ratchet was he could picture the white and red mech throwing various things as he was chased out for daring to even consider enter his sanitized little sanctuary.

 

' _Get your aft off the floor and move it! I’m gonna need you.'_ The harsh comm. message from Ratchet shocked the red and orange mech into action. Not even thinking to question the order he transformed into his alt-mode and tore through the halls as fast as he could heading for med-bay nestled deep in the belly of the Ark.

* * *

Ratchet spat all manner of vitriolic curses as he checked through his scan results. How could he have missed this? How could he have missed something now so glaringly obvious! He only gave the mech a full systems and spark check two days ago.

 

Shoving it aside for later he got to work. Rolling the red and blue mech onto his front he snatched the laser scalpel handed to him, making quick work of cutting open the thick outer armor and thinner dark grey internal plates. Speed took president over minimizing structural stress fractures as roughly stretched apart various lines and cables, pushing aside the primary and a secondary spinal column and removing non vital components with quick, efficient movements. Numbing agents being liberally applied by First Aid to ease at least some of the extra pain and discomfort being caused. Within a minute he’d reached his goal finally breaching the outer casing of the scared laser core and spark chamber.

 

What the medic saw made his spark skip a pulse. A tiny, misshapen mass made up of thousands of ribbons and strands of pure spark energy swirling and pulsing around the hollow of an undeveloped core sat against the back side of Optimus' spark. Fine, crisscrossed and twisted filaments of what should have been one solid umbilicus line barely anchored the rapidly expanding and unraveling mass to the larger parent spark.

 

The sight was both awe inspiring and spark shattering for the hardened medic.

 

“Ratchet?” First Aid’s soft call snapped the elder medic from his horrified state. “Get me size 2c extraction forceps, size 0.3 energon scalpel and I need them all sprayed with charge dampener now!”

 

His young assistants scrambled to follow the order as Ratchet glance up at the only other mech in the operating theatre. Rodimus Prime sat on a stool near the head of the surgical berth, one large grey hand tightly holding a cerulean one, the other gently stroking over a matching blue helm as he softly murmured words of comfort and support. The young mech resolutely refusing to look at anything but Optimus’ dulled, sedative addled optics.

 

Ratchet had asked the Prime to stay and maintain contact with Optimus to help keep the mech stable and focused on someone he was familiar with. He couldn’t run the risk of putting the large mech under full sedation or allow him to slip into recharge with his spark rhythms and systems impulses so chaotic and unstable. With Skyfire too far away the young mech, so close to the former Prime he might as well have sparked him himself, was the next best option he had. He needed a mental and physical anchor to keep Optimus focused on the physical world around him and lessen his unwitting interference in the medic's attempts to save the two healthy sparklings.

 

Last thing the medic needed was for the former Prime to go into full defensive shutdown, spark increasing its corona density and plasma output, while pulling the sparklings both healthy and distorted in deeper making his job 10 times harder.

 

Optimus’ spark was already pulsing erratically, energies fluctuating violently in frequency and power as his spark fought to maintain synchronization and protect the two healthy sparklings while struggling to eject the deformed third. His spark was attempting to sever the connections and reabsorb the failed sparking even as the little thing drew fiercely on his energies and those of its brethren attempting to reach cohesion around a already collapsing, unformed core.

 

Receiving the equipment he needed Ratchet shoved down the icy pit of apprehension forming in his tanks as he reached in with the coated forceps and energon scalpel. Closing the forceps around the most solid point of the rapidly growing, seething energy mass he quickly cut the tenuous umbilical filaments with a set of precise to the 1,000th of a millimeter, proficient slices.

 

As soon as the last 2 strands were severed there was a brief flare of sharp white light before the mass of energy expanded 4 fold then collapsed in on itself with a small burst of spark-plasma. Optimus recoiled violently, a harsh gag of shock and pain tearing from his vocals before he fell completely still, optics dulling to a dark blue, staring blankly off at nothing.

 

Within seconds the remaining energies from the failed sparkling disappeared, some dissipating in the air the rest reabsorbed back into the parent spark. The only evidence of its existence was the faint scorch mark it left against the inner and outer casing of the spark chamber.

 

“Alright he’s stabilizing, the sparklings should settle back into rhythm with his spark in a about 30 kliks or so. Swoop, close him up and First Aide give him a direct feed of high ion medical grade energon into his primary processing tank please.” Ratchet heaved a wry sigh as he stepped aside taking the offered cleaning cloth to wipe down his hands and arms.

 

Nodding First Aid and Swoop set to work cleaning up the fluids spilt in the rush to get into Optimus’ internals, replacing parts, cleaning and welding the plates from the gaping wound back in place and inserting the energon feed line. Turning the large mech onto his side the young medic gave the red and blue mech another once over clearing away the remnants of purged energon.

 

Rodimus kept his grasp on his adoptive creator’s hand, optics locked with the once vibrant ocean blue optics that were now awfully dull and staring almost completely vacant.

 

“Ratchet said everything’s alright. The sparklings are ok, you can rest now.” Hand slowly following the raised line of a blue helm crest.

 

The truck-formers derma moved a little and at first the Prime was unsure if he was speaking or not, until he leaned forward and turned up the gain on his audios catching the barely there whisper. Forcing a smile he nodded, passing his hand over the crest again to distract them as Ratchet administered a dose of full strength sedatives.

 

“He'll be here real soon. Don’t fight it, just relax. Everything’s ok. I promise Skyfire will be here when you wake.” Rodimus crooned softly watching as Optimus optics momentarily brightened before slowly fading until they flickered out.

 

It was a little disturbing to the young mech that the mech was turning to him asking for his mate, his bondmate. The stress on his spark must have been greater than he could possibly comprehend if he couldn't even properly contact his own mate.

 

“You Prime want clean too?” Starting the Prime looked up to find the kindly optics of Swoop staring down at him wash cloth, smelling strongly of medical grade solvents, held loosely in his large clawed hands.

 

“Oh, yeah thanks Swoop.” Taking the offered cloth the flame decorated mech began wiping off the now congealed purged energon from down his front. Sighing shakily, circuits prickling with too much stress induced charge and spark feeling suddenly to large for his chest after so long constricted in anxiety, he looked over at the bulky red and white medic as he collected all the used tools into a tray for cleaning. He hadn’t said anything more so far, and it was obvious to anyone the elder mech was highly agitated, but questions about what exactly had happened and what the medic had done buzzed in the young mech’s cortex begging to be answered.

 

“First Aid please move Optimus into the recovery area for further monitoring.” Taking that as the cue to no longer being needed Rodimus got up to leave passing one last stroke over his mentor’s helm. He resigned himself to keeping his questions for another time and going back to his duties when the CMO's next words caused his to pause mid turn. “And get a decent seat for Rodimus Prime so he can stay with Optimus until Skyfire arrives.”

 

“Yes, sir.” The shy young medic tipped his helm in respect before following the order.

 

Watching them move the red and blue mech into what he recognized as one of the ICU recovery suites the young Prime turned to the silent medic. If he wasn't getting kicked out then he wanted his answers. Activating his vocalizer he didn't even manage one word before he was cut off by the ambulance. “It was a miscarriage of sorts. That’s why he was in so much pain.” Ratchet stated flatly, all emotion bled from his vocals.

 

“There was a third, undersized deformed sparkling I’d missed in all my scans. It was at the back of his spark tangled up around one of the healed fracture lines in the spark casing. His large spark and the energy it puts out hid the third sparkling from my scans since my equipment is military grade, meant for regular sparks and all of the scans recently were taken from the front and sides."

 

"It can’t have been any newer than the youngest of the established sparklings, but it didn’t look like it had progressed any further from initial budding and massing of the energies.” Ratchet muttered bitterly, roughly linking a wrist mounted data cable into data pad and making notes.

 

“I had to remove it. I had to. It was starting to siphon energy so fast it would have kept expanding until it lost what form it had and burst on a scale that could have extinguished the parent spark… It had to go to save them all, but… It just… if I’d found it sooner I could have done something to save it. If I had time to research it and set up a containment unit I could have given it a chance to stabilize but… It didn’t even have a core … if it hadn’t properly formed one by now it was never going to develop or survive. One life with no future will always be trumped by two that do…” The medic mumbled, distractedly reasoning his actions out to himself more than to the Prime. A heavy shuddering out vent rattled the elder medic’s plates.

 

It took far too long for the Prime to take it all in, process it all and do more than simply stare with wide, stunned optics at the red and white mech. “I… I understand Ratchet. So will Optimus and Skyfire. You did what you could.” The young Prime stated giving the medic a gentle pat on the shoulder.

 

His rather poor attempt at comfort was shaken off with a grumbling huff, the white mech slipping away muttering about things needing to be cleaned and sorted.

* * *

Arriving 2 hours after his mate had been rushed to the med bay Skyfire ran through the halls of the Ark, trailing smoke and heat vapor from his over heated booster engines. He ignored the burning pain from over stressed systems, mind fully focused on the unsettling mix of grief, sadness and a deep, cold ache.

 

Rodimus Prime had left him concise little messages regarding what had happened and why his mate wasn't answering. He appreciate the young mech's efforts to keep him informed, but no amount of the most well written, gentle and informative words would never make up for physically being in the presence of his lover and getting his answers and reassurances directly from them.

 

He would never forget the burning, tearing pain that echoed through the bond, stabbing at the very centre of his core unlike anything he'd felt before. With that kind of pain all he could think of was Ratchet’s warnings about miscarriage. Something he’d said was very common with a good 60-75% normal sparkings by 'normal' mech's and femme's failing within the first 2 months and that he expected a breeder would be no exception.

 

With everything he’d felt across the bond in his mad dash race back to the Ark his lines ran cold with the realization his mate may be in the throws of loosing their sparklings and he was too far away to help him. That thought had spurned him on to push his systems almost beyond their limits.

 

Over half way back to the Ark he’d managed to get some response from his mate. It had been rather simple, slowly compiled answers consisting of assurances that he was fine and that everything was alright, but he’d learned their version of ‘fine’ just meant they were conscious and could move. More than once during their relationship and bonding he’d felt Optimus in great pain and the mech had always had assured him he was alright and not to worry, only to see him missing plating, covered in laser burns, holes punctured in his dense armor or at worst carrying one of his own limbs.

 

Mechs and femmes scattered left and right as he plowed head long towards the med-bay with no regard for anyone that got in his way. He wanted, no needed to see his mate for himself. He needed to feel, to hold, to see with his own optics his mate and sparklings were truly alright.

 

The med bay doors opened as soon as he arrived. Stepping inside he franticly looked around for any sign of his bondmate, in his spark he knew they were very close, their spark unconsciously calling out for his in their distress. “Where is he? Where’s Optimus? Where’s my bondmate!” He almost shrieked, frame shuddering from stress and over exertion.

 

As soon as the shuttle was inside First Aid grabbed the anxious flyers large arm quickly pulling him along towards the recovery area. “Skyfire, Skyfire! Calm down he’s ok the sparklings are fine. He’s in here, just please calm down.”

 

In the recovery room Optimus sat on a medical berth, knees loosely drawn up, chin resting against his chest and arms wrapped around himself. Lines and wires linked him to several monitors and an energon feed to one side of the berth, on the other sat a somber looking Rodimus Prime, hand stilled at the red and blue mech’s lower back.

 

As soon as the shuttle entered the room once barely lit optics flared brightly to life. The two stared at one another for a long, painful moment before a small, lopsided smile graced Optimus’ derma though it never quite reached his optics.

 

Stumbling over his own peds and dropping to sit on the edge of the berth Skyfire gently ran his large white hand down the ruined side of his mate’s face plates, fingers slowly slipping down along his jaw to rest at the collar point of armor. He hesitated. Fingers hovered there trembling ever so faintly.

 

Uncurling his legs the truck former shifted forward as far as all the medical devices allowed, arms reaching for his bondmate’s wide shoulders pulling the white mech to him. Mindful of the various wires and cables still linked in to Optimus’ frame Skyfire didn’t hesitate in fully embracing him in a firm hug.

 

An nervous shiver passed through the red and blue mech's frame as large, questing fingers slid over the fresh weld lines forming a diamond shape across his back. The sensory wires linked into the armor had been sealed so there was no real pain and very little sensitivity, but feeling the worry, self directed guilt for not being there and fear swelled within his mate made thoughts he’d been trying futilely to bury rise to the surface.

 

“We’re ok… I’m ok.” Optimus assured his bonded even as his frame started trembling despite the tight control he had on himself. “We never knew they were there… never got attached to them, but they are back with me now, with us… I… it just wasn’t their time to be… maybe… maybe another time…”

 

Placing a gentle kiss upon his bondmate’s quivering derma Skyfire pulled his mate’s helm down to rest against his shoulder. “I know love… I know. We’ll get to meet them someday.”

 

Rodimus Prime watched on, feeling slightly unnerved seeing the image of the famously unflappable former Prime truly cracking and rapidly turning to dust before his optics. The long he sat, watching, circuits crawling with uncertainty he increasingly felt like an intruder in a private moment.

 

These two may have taken him in like he was their own, but in the end neither had sparked him and now they had their own sparklings on the way, one just found and already lost, he felt this wasn’t his place. His spark still ached at the loss, behaving as if that was his true would-be sibling that had been lost. Besides, he reasoned with himself, he had a duty as Prime to get back to his job keeping things running, write out a report on the incident and sort out how to explain things to the humans.

 

Standing from his seat, intent on leaving the pair alone to grieve their lost sparkling, he was halted by a large white hand gripping his forearm. His optics flicked from the white hand holding his arm up to the bright blue optics watching him with a sharp intensity.

 

“I, uh… I have to...” The large white mech smiled ever so lightly. “Comm. Ultra Magnus and Kup and inform them you have a family matter that needs your immediate attention and that Kup will be taking charge in your absence and Ultra Magnus needs to get his aft here? I understand.”

 

The Prime reset his optics a few times as the white mech’s words, no order, sunk in. Laughing softly he pats the mech’s hand. “Of course. I’ll only be a few minutes then I’ll be back. I promise.” Pacified the flyer turns back to holding his bondmate as the Prime slipped from the small room.

 

He’d already given the City Commander a basic break down of events during the wait for Skyfire before he’d shut off his comm. entirely. Including Kup in the conversation turned what was meant to only be a 2 minute status report and temporary command assignments into 30 minutes of argument driven interrogation as Kup pressed the less than patient young Prime for as many details as he could get and Magnus fussed and worried over his brother and debated dereliction of his duties. In the end -after all but being screamed at by the Prime to shut it and do as he said - the both mechs relented, only asking that he pass on their congratulations and condolences and that Magnus would be in to see his brother, Optimus, after his shifts were done the Prime was back at his post. They couldn't afford any others dropping out of their work schedules right now, especially with the human media and governments still causing problems.

 

Finally wandering back into the recovery rooms he found Skyfire resting back against the raised upper portion of the medical berth, Optimus laid out on his side in the shuttle’s arms, helm resting against the wide expanse of his shoulder, deep in recharge. How the enormous, sometimes ungainly mech had managed to make the arrangement without disturbing one line or cable was beyond the young mech. Taking a long in and out vent the cold numbness that had enveloped his spark finally easing away he returned to his previous seat taking the blue hand hanging over the edge of the berth in his.

 

There was going to be much explaining to be done on all their parts come tomorrow, but for now he was just happy to sit with his family.

 

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

With a small start Optimus’ processors began the slow, arduous task of rebooting after an extended period under the influence of pain inhibitors, light sedatives and deep recharge. His central cortex had barely begun running at half capacity before the memory recall hit him like a full power blow from Megatron.

 

His spark immediately sought out the delicate energies of his sparklings. Despite his processor still lagging in primary reboot, unable to fully comprehend the status reports clouding his HUD, Optimus instinctively recognized the distinct energy signatures and faint draw of the two tiny sparklings feeding off his spark output.

 

A soothing wash of love and comfort from his bondmate helped ease the last remaining stark edges of fear and panic prickling through his spark as the raw memory recall of what he had lost and almost lost flitted through his processor. Skyfire’s emotional strength buoyed his spark and relieved his rattled nerves as his frame slowly registered the large warm hand petting across his chest and the deep ache of pulled, frayed and stressed cabling, knitting neural wires and healing plates all slowly settling back into place.

 

Throughout his life as Prime he was no stranger to pain and bouts of well masked fear and anxiety, but none of it compared to the raw tearing agony and the icy needles of pure terror that had struck at his very core sending processor spinning off into blind panic. It had felt as if someone had speared him through the back with white hot energon blades and was viciously twisting them into his spark. Slicing, burning, and flaying him to the core and beyond.

Through it all the sparklings had quivered and beat out a sharp stucco of pulses in their increasing distress, causing a flood of chemical responses in his systems to protect them. With the raw searing pain blazing through his chest with every pulse of his spark and systems going into a defensive frenzy, all his remaining thought processes were zeroed down to protecting his young at any cost.

 

He could never have even guessed, even given years and all the information on Cybertron on breeding mecha and sparklings, that the source of all that turmoil, all that pain and suffering was one, ever so tiny, failed sparkling meeting its inevitable end.

 

Processor finally up to full running capacity, Optimus relaxed into the warm frame holding him as he flicked on his optics to stare up at the familiar orange of the med-bay, lighting muted to a soft glow indicating it was late evening. A large hand smoothing over the scarred side of his face drew the truck-formers attention up to the softly smiling, tired face plates of his beloved bondmate; Skyfire.

 

The shuttle always seemed to enjoy touching the deep scaring and in truth his gentle strokes over the ruined area actually helped set the truck-former at ease. “Hey sweetspark, how are you feeling?”

 

It took two attempts before his vocalizer cooperated, “I’m fine.” Optimus sighed, vocals grating lightly from being overly dry after healing the minor damage caused by the caustic mix of processed and unprocessed energon, and caustic digestion fluids.

 

“You certainly know how to cause a spectacular mass panic, don’t you?” A familiar voice rumbles, amusement warming the normally hard, no-nonsense tone.

 

Sluggishly turning his helm the former Prime found the large blue and white form of his brother Ultra Magnus sitting beside the berth, a wry smile gracing the large mech’s normally stony face plates.

 

“I do try, brother.” Optimus murmured playfully, receiving a stern look from Magnus and an amused little chuckle from his mate.

 

Sighing thought his vents the car-carrier sat forward taking a royal blue hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. “So… I guess some congratulations are in order, huh? Skyfire explained everything and I truly cannot express how happy I am for you both, and,” Giving the hand in his a harder squeeze Magnus couldn't fully block the frown that briefly twitched across his mouth. "And I'm sorry for the loss as well."

 

A weak smile pulled at Optimus' derma as he returned the gesture, but he remained silent not quite meeting his brother's optics. Shifting a little in the awkward silence that followed, Ultra Magnus decided to share some other, lighter news;

 

“Elita-One is already on her way to Earth; approximately 8 days out last check in. Be warned though. She is, and I quote Chromia; ‘so pit-damned furious she is warring between throttling and hugging Optimus for not telling her he sparked before causing a mass panic with a mystery illness, and plotting to shooting Ultra Magnus for scaring us all with his beyond poor communication handling skills’."

 

Cracking something of a more genuine smile at the thought of seeing Elita-One again - even if she would potentially be in a sour mood - Optimus shifted slightly to relieve some of the pressure on his tender back as Magnus continued;

 

"I will admit my handling of the situation and sharing the details regarding your status were not one of my proudest moments. There is no excuse for my abysmal handling of the situation.

 

“With Skyfire's consent I had Rodimus filled me in on the details while you were in recovery and I forwarded the audio to Elita and a select few of her crew as we spoke. In my haste I failed to take into account our ongoing interstellar communications restorations and the strength of the signal required for such a transmission to be heard in real time and… well, it did not reach her as a complete audio stream. There were several breaks and delays in odd places that garbled the message somewhat."

 

It was rare for a mech like Ultra Magnus to admit fault and it bothered Optimus to see what had happened had upset the normally stoic, hard edged mech to the point he was visibly shaken. His mind immediately turned to how many other mecha must have seen his state and been equally upset and frightened. The news of his ‘illness’ was more than likely all over the base before he even reached the med-bay.

 

Primus, what a mess.

 

“Magnus, I'm so sorry I have worried and frightened you so. If you can please pass on my sincere apologies to everyone for I know my state must have cause great upset -” A sharp tap to the top of his helm crest cut off him off mid-sentence.

 

“Ah ah, none of that, love. There is nothing for you to apologize for. Rodimus has sorted out the miscommunication and he has done what he can to calm things. A note has been shared over the general comms and notice systems that you are being treated for the sudden onset of a previously undiagnosed virus and that you will be fine. I wanted your input before telling the general populous the truth.” Skyfire reassured, stopping his mate before he could start a litany of unneeded apologies and getting himself worked up worrying about everyone like he used to when he was Prime. The truck-former really didn't need any added stress right now.

 

Curling further around Optimus, the big shuttle planted a chased kiss against a long, blue audial finial. “You just rest, look after our little ones, and let Prime, Magnus and I take care of things. Alright?"

 

Optimus nodded, taking one of his bonded's large hands into his. Cupping the sizeable appendage he carefully traced his fingers over intricate joints and thin plates as he lavished Skyfire's thick, yet incredibly dexterous and sensitive digits with soft strokes and rubs that always left the shuttle feeling good and helped the truck-former himself relax. As the tension eased his mind and spark fixed on the bond and the general sense of contentment from the sparklings. It all helped to derail the thoughts - growing louder and more demanding the longer he left them continue - that he _had_ _to_ personally make his status known to the mecha of the Ark, that he _had to_ assuage their fears and assure them he would be fine, to make sure things continued as they should despite his absence… but he knew, logically, he didn't.

 

He wasn't Prime anymore.

 

His day to day life no longer revolved almost entirely around the Autobots. Their wellbeing and happiness was no longer his primary responsibility or high priority concern, and had not been for nearing an earth year. He still cared about them all and would for the rest of his vorns but he should - no he _would_ \- be selfish right now.

 

No one needed him more than his sparklings and mate and in truth, all he wanted to do was just sit here in Skyfire's warm embrace, listen to the soft sounds of his systems and do nothing but 'listen' via the carrier tether bond to his little ones. Immerse himself in the waves of nonsense, directionless babble from his sparklings and sink into the bond, ignoring everything else for a few hours.

 

But first; "Magnus, could you please forward this personal message and image files direct to Elita-One, her optics only?" Two blips in his communication array showed Magnus accepted and received his little data package. "Of course, I'll have Blaster encode it before I put it through."

 

"Thank you, brother. It is most appreciated and will hopefully allay any further upset with Elita and put her in a better mood for her arrival."

 

“Not a problem. I will leave you two be. My comm. is open should you want or need anything. Rest well.” With that Magnus slipped from the room, the door sealing behind him with a quiet hiss.

 

A comfortable silence settled within the small room only interrupted occasionally by the clinical sounds of medical monitoring equipment. Content, safe, warm filtered through the bond as Skyfire watched his mate in quiet repose, light recharge having retaken him shortly after Magnus had left. The shuttle himself had yet to be able to settle enough to recharge, mind still processing the whole incident, plus Starscream’s deplorable proposal still haunting him no matter how hard he tried to bury it.

 

Looking down at his lovely mate, whole, healthy and on the road to full recovery he debated ever speaking of the encounter with the devious seeker.

 

On the one hand he didn’t want any further worry or stress leveled on his mate over the mere words of an egotistical, unstable seeker. Though on the other he didn’t want said crazed seeker randomly showing up or somehow getting to Optimus with his horrid proposal and maybe even doing something drastic should he be rejected again. Skyfire knew, despite Starscream’s surety he would win, Optimus would deny him. Even the idea of mentioning the encounter but lying by omission of details pertaining to what was said about Optimus himself didn’t sit well with him.

 

No, he would tell Optimus everything. He deserved to know and to be frank the seekers words and phrasing left Skyfire wondering if the seeker actually knew Optimus was a breeder or if it was something else unique about the former Prime he believed would somehow get him new sparks.

 

Decision made the shuttle followed his mate’s lead focusing down on the gentle soothing ebb and flow of the bond he settled down into recharge. Allowing his self-repair systems to prioritize clean up and repair of his overtaxed flight systems and booster engines.

* * *

Some distance away in the remains of a small Decepticon base a dark coloured seeker slowly picked his way through the dim light and mindful of his step with the mecha lay strewn about on the ruined floors. Some were recharging to conserve what little energy they had to spare, others simply unable to stand or move, or worse in failing stasis lock from energon deprivation and/or disabling injury. The seeker’s vents worked in short, shallow gasps trying to keep out the worst of the damp, rank air filled with the revolting, cloying scent of death, mold, rusted decay, and rotting energon that swirled like a thick miasma through the narrow halls.

 

As he neared a set of bent doors he paused momentarily, looking back the way he’d come audios tuned to their highest gain listening for any sign he had been followed this deep into the crumbling base. Satisfied to neither hear nor see any unwanted company he tucked his wings and ducked through the narrow gap in the doors into near complete darkness.

 

Red optics cast stark shadows in the mostly collapsed space that had once been part of the main war room. Now barely 1/5th of the space remained, ceiling and 2 walls completely caved in.

 

Ducking and weaving through hanging cables and broken support struts with memorized ease the purple and black seeker quickly found his little ‘nest’ and its lone occupant.

 

“Hey, TC scored us a treat.” Tucking himself into the tight little space beside the blue and white seeker he pulled a small cube from his subspace placing it in his lap. The contents were a mix of low grade energon and small lumps of semi-crystalized gelled energon.

 

Squeezing an arm in behind Thundercracker’s back Skywarp gently maneuvered the other mech to rest against him, their head stiffly turning to rest against his shoulder. “I swear _Lord_ Starscream’s getting glitchier every time I have to see him. You wouldn’t believe what he pulled on me today. He gives me this midgrade energon then he literally jumps on me saying its payment for a ‘request’. Made me drink all of it, wouldn’t let me stash any… Aft-slagger. He wanted to go see that old flame of his, remember him? Big, chunky, doofus of a shuttle? The whiney pacifist who played flying bus to the Autobots? Yeah that one.” He popped a few of the lumps of gel in his mouth, chewing with a slight grimace as his oral sensors registered the low quality and impurities as bitter and gritty.

 

“Did you know that big dipstick really is fragging the old Prime? No, I’m not kidding! Seriously he must be some kinda crazy frag master in the berth or something cause he’s about as interesting and attractive as a lump of wet slag, but any way, Screamer pulled out his old ‘proposal’ again. Can you believe it?” Downing a couple more gels he tenderly rubbed his fellow seekers scuffed up wings, soothing the sporadically twitching appendages.

 

“You’d think he would’ve given up by now and started going for the new Prime with that but noooo still fixated on the old one. Creepy obsessive really. Oh and you should have seen the look on that shuttle’s face when he said that scrap, HA! It was priceless! I swear TC, I swear he looked so close to putting a fist into Screamer’s face. Oh Primus if only, it would have been so awesome to see him get his smug plates smashed in by a pacifist. You would have loved to see it.” Skywarp’s deep, jovial voice trailed off as a now familiar, heavy ache settled in his chest.

 

Stuffing the remaining pieces of gel into his mouth, using the mildly unpleasant taste as a distraction form dark thoughts, the dark seeker shifted his companion to lean back a little, tucking their remaining functional leg up and wrapping his arm across their back using his shoulder to hold their neck straight.

 

“Anyway, I’ve got energon here for you. Nice and clean for once.” Skywarp cheered, smiling broadly despite the fact the blue seeker couldn’t see it. With his free hand Skywarp ever so gently stroked scuffed and chipped fingers over a pale, cheek earning him a soft, wheezing sigh from damaged vents.

 

Skywarp carefully placed the cube into Thundercracker’s hands resting in his lap, only to have the other seeker attempt to push it away.

 

“TC… Thundercracker, _don’t_. I’m in no mood for that slag. I just…look I partitioned off some of that energon the screaming one pit near choked me with into my storage and only used the bare minimum to get us both there and back and to hide and watch him fail. I’ve had some gelled energon while I talked too, I’m fine. So no more fighting, cause - cause I swear to Primus I’m not above jamming this down your throat, you got me!” Thundercracker shifted awkwardly next to him, vents rasping and stuttering as shaking hands slowly lifted the cube to his mouth.

 

Satisfied, Skywarp help guided the cube to his cracked, peeling derma. “Ah, careful TC, careful remember. Slower, slower, that’s it. Don’t want the pipe to slip out again.” The dark seeker crooned as he carefully controlled the flow of the softly glowing liquid into the seekers mouth to the back of his intake and down into the ugly piece of piping currently serving as intake tube in his ruined throat connecting mouth with his processing tanks intake tube.

 

The sound of the fluids sloshing around, gurgling and draining down the too narrow pipe and pained hitching of vents as each sip of energon burns where pipe met damaged tubing made the dark seekers spark twinge with sympathy. He’d tried to find better tubing within the base – unable to bring himself to scavenge from the dead - he even tried putting a patch over the gaping hole to help protect the vulnerable cables, wires and fluid lines but it hadn’t lasted. Rust infections and nanite-cell death were setting in thanks to the damp environment, lack of consistent decent energon and proper tools leaving the areas around the wounds soft and crumbling. It hurt Skywarp deeply to see his best friend and wingmate in so much pain and suffering. The once contrite, intelligent and stoically independent seeker reduced to a barely functioning wreck reliant on the bumbling ditz of their trine to survive.

 

A tug on the cube let him know Thundercracker was done. Tossing the cube aside Skywarp maneuvered his companion back to the position they were in before, making sure they were as comfortable as their cramped little space allowed. Wriggling in to tuck himself snuggly beside his companion he took the blindly groping dark grey hand into his purple one giving it a firm squeeze.

 

“A few more days, TC. Few more days and we’re outta this rotting pit. I already got the coordinates set and my sights on the mech who will help us, and he will help us. I know a bond when I see one and his mate won’t let him refuse us. I just know it.” Skywarp spoke barely above a whisper, but the returned soft squeeze let him know Thundercracker heard.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following are items of point that I don’t want to try shoe-horn into the main story but will touch on at later times.
> 
> *Ultra Magnus and Optimus' previously saw one another as very close friends. After their rebuilds by Alpha Trion and second chances at life, that friendship naturally evolved into a familial bond of brotherhood, Alpha Trion now viewed as their pseudo sire.
> 
> *Optimus continues to see Elita One (formerly Ariel) as a very close friend and sister-in-arms despite their long relationship that initially survived their reformat having fallen apart quite a long time ago due to stresses of being commanders and leaders, and the strain put on them by the Council to produce a new Prime.


	8. AUTHOR UPDATE (not a chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to update on what's going on and why the big delays again.
> 
> This will be deleted and replaced with a chapter soon.

Basically my laptop threw a massive hissy fit with my profile out of no where a few weeks back. Still have no idea what caused it and we couldn't fix it so that required the nuke option.

Now here's where the problem comes in. The day it threw its fit over my profile was the day I was doing a back up to our new PC. I thought the back up had worked and after a few days of trial and error to fix my profile it was decided to just nuke it and restart. Unfortunately I'd find out too late only OLD copies of my files had made the transfer before things went nuts. All the newer files either didn't make it or were complete gibberish and the nuking of my profile meant EVERYTHING I'd had there was deleted... so yeah not a happy chappy. Thankfully I still know where I was at and what I was doing and can just copy down what I have here, but yeah... not fun.

On top of that I've been really unwell of late. My old problems coming back full force killing my energy. So once again my updates are going to be horribly sporadic until I get to see a specialist in August.

So, sorry about the delays. I hope to be back on track soon.


End file.
